


Paradise Lost

by Sarah Problem (SarahProblem)



Series: Come With Me [4]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Complete, Episode: s03e19 The Cloud Minders, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 02:31:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10732308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahProblem/pseuds/Sarah%20Problem
Summary: A trip to Ardana to introduce the Stratos Dwellers to the idea of a new trade agreement goes wrong. For everyone.





	Paradise Lost

**Author's Note:**

> While this story is tagged as being related to Star Trek: The Original Series episode "The Cloud Minders", and uses much of the episode as a base, this will not be a 'blow-by-blow' retelling of that episode. Mine does weird things.

Paradise Lost

 Sarah Problem

 

  

 

 

"And this, Captain Kirk, is called ‘The Advent of Sound in the Clear Dawn’ by our renowned sculptor, Wenthros." Plasus, High Advisor of Ardana, stood proudly in front of a very large white marble sculpture. Distinguished in his artistically draped blue robes, gray hair and beard, Plasus was well spoken and obviously well-versed on the subject of Stratos’ native artisans. And that was part of the problem. After two hours of touring the large, beautiful city that floated in the clouds, Jim had run out of nice things to say.

_It’s a large, white, swirling mass that looks like the humongous shell of a Terran snail. A pretty bad-ass snail, but still... I don’t know how they get ‘sound’ or ‘dawn’ out if it._

"It looks very... round, and... white, and... swirling..." Jim said, waving his hand in a circular motion to try to add some enthusiasm to his response.

A couple of steps behind him, McCoy snickered under his breath.

_Shut up, Bones. You're not helping._

If he’d been able, Jim would have pulled McCoy up to walk with the two of them, to help the diplomatic cause by suggesting adjectives of his own. But as his subordinates, McCoy and Spock had been left to walk behind Jim and Plasus. Droxine, Plasus’ daughter, had joined the two, and had latched on to Spock. The few times Jim had been able to glance back, Droxine had been talking softly to Spock while keeping a death grip on his arm. Spock had walked stiffly and nodded politely, but was looking a bit green around the edges. McCoy clearly had his attention on both Jim and Spock, and looked entirely too entertained by his companion's ordeals.

And truthfully, it was one of the few times the Captain of the Enterprise wished he could trade places with his CMO.

"Ah, yes, Captain," Plasus replied with a delighted smile. "It is so nice when our arts are so appreciated."

"They truly are. Appreciated," Jim said working to keep the friendly smile plastered across his face. "I know I’ve seen several works of Stratos’ famous artists in Federation Headquarters. They are the talk of the Membership planets."

"We are famous throughout the galaxy, Captain. Not just the Federation! Why, I’ve heard that the Romulans and Klingons have many of our pieces. Smuggled across the borders," Plasus gushed happily. "Not that we would sell to them, of course," he added with a wave of his hand. "But we have made such a grand contribution to all societies, from our humble home."

_Not exactly humble,_ Jim thought tiredly.  _Plasus_ does _like to brag. I guess I can't blame him, since art is one of the city's chief products. They produce some outstanding items. I_ have _seen their work displayed all over the Federation. But, honestly, I'd like to see more of the city itself. As the largest anti-gravity metropolis in the Federation, a lot of scientists were clamoring for a tour. Spock and I included. The kind of city building they've done here we can only do in orbit. Now, if we could just get them to put up that kind of technology in our new trade offer, we could both be happy._

And the new trade offer from the Federation was why the Enterprise had arrived at Ardana only that morning. Art was nice, but what the Federation was really interested in were the zenite consignments that helped a lot of colony worlds survive. Just last month, Merak II suffered a Botanical plague that threatened to destroy all vegetation on the planet. If the Federation hadn’t had some already en route to another planet, it would have been a race to come to Ardana and retrieve more of the ore before Merak II was lost. It would have come down to a matter of hours.

Since zenite was, so far, was only found on Ardana, the Federation council decided to offer them new trading deal. The Captain of the Enterprise was there to suggest a new trade of mining equipment and medical upgrades for the Ardanan's, in exchange for some of their anti-gravity technology. Any upgrades the Federation could provide should speed up production of zenite, which should make both sides happy. The only problem was that the Ardanan's were very closed off about their mining facilities, as well as their technology. Visitors were welcomed to tour the vast exhibits on the floating city, but not the planet nor the inner workings of the city itself.

All of which Jim hoped to be allowed a closer look at. If he could figure out a way to wrangle an invitation.

_If I can get them to agree to more negotiations, then the Federation can send a diplomat to work out the details. But it’s hard to offer upgrades when you don’t really_ know _what they need or what kind of improvements they'd value. Of if they even want any at all. If I could just get a working tour of the city, it would be easier to bring the subject up._

Plasus, waved his arm, gesturing to the next item in the long hallway. "Now, as we come upon the next piece..." But he stopped in surprise, going from proud to furious. "Disrupters again!" He pointed at a wiry piece of art work. It took Jim a moment to see it wasn’t the art he was talking about. Next to the wall hanging was a dagger like tool, embedded into the wall.

"How dreadful!" Droxine said with annoyance. "They’re despoiling the whole city."

"Despoil?" Spock asked, curious. "For what purpose?"

"By keeping us in constant turmoil," Plasus said angrily. "They hope to force the Council to accede to their demands."

"The Disrupters? What are their demands?" McCoy asked.

"Completely unreasonable, Doctor," Plasus said testily. "But nothing you need be concerned with."

"Since we are here to talk about a new agreement on the exchange of technologies, High Advisor," Jim said calmly. "Maybe it would be to your benefit to take advantage of the Federations trained mediators. They could help both you and the miners come to some—"

"Not possible, Captain," Plasus said. He grabbed the implement and pulled if from the wall. He held out the tool angrily. "This. This is all the Disrupters understand." Plasus sighed and suddenly looked tired. "The disturbances accompanying the announcement of your arrival have been most wearying. No doubt you would like to rest now."

_Accompanying our arrival? So, the pace has been stepped up. The Disruptors must desperate for attention. That can get very ugly, very quickly._

"A rest would be most welcomed, Sir," Jim assured him. "It would give us a chance to catch our breath before the Council Welcoming dinner tonight. I look forward to meeting the other council members there."

"As, I’m sure, they are also looking forward to meeting you and your men, Captain." Plasus clapped his hand and a Sentinel, dressed in their short, blue tunics and cap, appeared. "This Sentinel will take you to your prepared quarters. I hope you will find your accommodations refreshing."

They followed the Sentinel, Droxine clearly reluctant to release her grip on Spock's arm, and were lead down various halls until they came to the open Park. They'd walked through the beautiful, green and lush area earlier on their tour, and Jim had to admit it was, for him, the best part of the city. At about 4 kilometers long, and 1 kilometer wide, the Park was large enough to get lost in. For a while at least. Another thing Jim liked about the city was that there were no moving vehicles on the open areas of Stratos, so everyone walked. Any such transport was confined to the many levels of tunnels and passages underneath the city. As was its anti-gravity technology. Those were the lower levels visitors were never allowed to see.

As with many Member cities, Stratos had a Security Shield that blocked transporters. Jim, Spock and McCoy's original beam down point had been along one of the very few transporter pads kept on balconies on the outer edge of the city's buildings. A visitor's first sight was the breath-taking nine kilometer drop from the balcony to the surface of the red and dry planet below. It was one thing to see it all from orbit. And another to feel like you could simply lean over the railing and fall.

Jim had loved the view on arrival. Spock had appreciated it politely. McCoy had turned white and backed away. McCoy's reaction might almost have been comical if Jim didn't know how badly heights, and flight, bothered him. After that, though, it had all been about having their luggage for a three-day stay beamed down and taken away, a simple lunch with the High Councilor and his daughter, and the Grand Tour. Jim would have appreciated being able to just wander around by himself, but that never happened when he visited a city. Not while he was on duty.

Now, as off-duty as he was going to get on Stratos, Jim raised his face to the sun. Today, like all other days in the city, the sky was clear and unclouded. The temperature and oxygen mixture was contained and monitored within the bubble-shaped shield that surrounded the massive structure, making every day pleasantly warm and bright. The park was full of beautiful people, all dressed in the flowing dresses and artistically draped robes of the Stratos Dwellers. There were singles and groups milling about. Even a few children laughing and playing games. The grass was perfect, short, soft and unblemished by any wild growth. It made Jim want to rip off his shoes and run barefoot.

"Perfect weather," McCoy said, too low for the Sentinel to hear as they followed him across the green expanse. "I wonder, though, if all this perfect weather would get boring after a while. I do miss some of the good old thunderstorms we used to have when I was a kid."

"Even those would have been planned, Doctor," Spock said. "Earth has been able to control most of its weather for many years now."

"I know, but as a kid it was pretty exciting," McCoy said with a shake of his head. "It felt wild and wonderful at the time. Here, they don’t have any of that."

"I’d guess they could always go down to the surface, for variety," Jim said.

"I don’t know," McCoy said uncertainly. "That balcony transporter pad we beamed down on didn’t seem to have anyone waiting to use it. Do they have  _any_  public beaming sites in the city?"

"Not any inside the city proper, that we know of," Spock replied. "They are all located on outer balconies, such as the one we beamed down on. At the lowest level they have several bulk transporters for beaming up industrial items and other non-living materials, and beaming down waste for disposal. They are all located on the outer edges of Stratos, where the Security shield could be pulled back enough to allow such transport."

McCoy grimaced. "You wouldn’t want to use those industrial transporters on a living being! They’re just not calibrated that well. A man could find his insides scrambled like eggs from hitching a ride on those. I saw some of those kind of transporter results in my early days. Gives me nightmares.”

"But, they're good for bulk transport, like these rocks, and the dirt we're walking on," Jim added.

"Otherwise," Spock added, "they have several docks on the lower levels, and use shuttles as well. I'd assume that the populace would tend to use the shuttles on most occasions. Transporter technology is very expensive to run and maintain, Doctor. Even in space, ships use the bulk of the transporter technology that exists. For a city such as this, the technology would not all ways show a good return on the investment."

"There could be a lot of things to do on the planet, for the indigenous population," Jim said. "But I've never seen much information about the planet below, other than the basics. That'll be one of the sticking points of any new negotiations I think. They don't want to meet us down there, and they don't want us to talk directly to the Troglytes. We have, in the past, but the Council doesn't like it. We need to see if we can get a look at their mining procedures."

"It will be hard to offer them any improvements if we are not fully aware of their current methods," Spock admitted.

"I don't know," McCoy said, looking around at the happy groups with a frown. "Maybe it's just me, but I feel like we're not seeing everything here. Everything just looks and feels too... perfect. Artificial."

"Most societies take great pains to hide their less successful endeavors from outsiders," Spock said. "There may be much we are not seeing."

"Which includes the problems they're having with the Disrupters," Jim added with a sigh. "I also feel like this place is a  _lot_  more complicated than it looks. If any of us can get down to the surface for a tour, we need to do so."

They came to the building that they would be staying in, and followed the Sentinel inside. Once they arrived at their rooms, he instructed them on the use of the intercom system if they needed anything, then left. Their baggage was waiting for them in front of three doors. Jim picked the first room, and waited as some of the waiting servants carried his bags inside. McCoy chose the second room and Spock the third. After directing their bags to their own rooms, Spock and McCoy followed Jim into his. It was a modestly sized room, done in dark colored wall panels with a variety of reds and oranges elsewhere. There was wall-sized window that looked out over the planet, covered by a sheer orange curtain. Beyond it was a balcony.

As soon as the door close, Jim sighed and sat on the bed. McCoy sat as well, but then flopped on his back to stretch out.

"I need a nap. Good time to get one in," Jim said. "I imagine it's going to be a long night of hand shaking and smiling diplomacy at the Welcome dinner. My face is already tired."

"What, all that artwork tire you out?" McCoy asked teasingly. "I had a  _great_  time. All kinds of good stuff going on right beside me." McCoy looked over at Spock, who was standing at the window, arms crossed. McCoy grinned evilly. "Spock's got a new girlfriend."

"Oh, really?" Jim asked with amusement, glancing at Spock, who still look flushed a little green. "I knew she had a serious death grip on his arm there. She wasn't wanting him to escape any time soon."

"Doctor, I already am spoken for," Spock said sternly, ignoring Jim.

"Not according to Droxine," McCoy snickered. "According to her, Vulcan's are almost as evolved as Ardanan's. She even  _asked him_  if he had a girlfriend."

"She did?" Jim chuckled. "And I assume you set her straight, Spock? Gently, of course."

"I endeavored to do so," Spock said, clearly a little annoyed at the memory. "I do not think she was listening. I do not know why she should would think I was interested in her in that way."

"It's just your Vulcan charm, Spock," McCoy said teasingly. "You just can't help it. It's the pointed ears, I just know it."

Spock raised an eyebrow as he looked at McCoy.

"Or the fact that you're almost two meters of tall and dark--"

"Doctor," Spock interrupted with clearly controlled exasperation.

McCoy sighed heartily and patted his chest. "With those killer dark eyes and long lashes…"

Spock gave McCoy a glare and turned to Jim. "Captain, if I may be excused to my room. I would appreciate the rest. And the silence."

"Sure, Spock." Jim tried not to laugh out loud.

At the door, Spock turned to McCoy and said dryly, "Doctor, the clear appreciation the Ardanan's have for the Arts, and the well-formed humanoid form, just shows how evolved the Ardanan's actually are. Choosing me as a touring companion, over you, was not only highly logical, but the more aesthetic choice as well."

"Hey!" McCoy exclaimed. He looked at Jim. "I think I was just insulted, Vulcan style."

"Don't think, Bones," Jim reached over and slapped him on the shoulder, laughing. "Know."

As Spock made his exit, Jim rose to retrieved one of his bags, placing it on a nearby table.

"Good thing we're only here for a few days," Jim said with a sigh as he unpacked a few things into a drawer. "I'd rather sleep on the ship."

"You're just going to miss waking up to  _my_  'aesthetically pleasing' form," McCoy said with a snort. "Do you think they're really going to be interested in the whole mining technology and medical upgrade offer?"

Jim continued to unpack. "It's hard to say at this point. They've not been very forthcoming about their whole mining process. But we could use any extra zenite they could produce. If we hadn't had some in storage at one of the Starbases, it would have been a real rush to save Merak II. It would be a lot easier if we even knew for sure they could  _use_  what we had to offer. That's why they sent the Enterprise for a visit. If we're clearly out classed in the technology departments, then we can try to wrangle a trade for what  _we_  could use, besides more zenite. If they could use a boost from us, then we'd have the upper hand. The diplomats need to know what they're going for before they get sent here to work out all the millions of little details a new trade agreement would entail. We, thankfully, won't be here nearly that long."

He sat on the bed again, closer to McCoy.

McCoy hummed, closing his eyes. "I told you, Jim, the Federation needs a home for all those little Horta babies."

"Well, I guess that in time, everyone has to leave the nest, find a job..." Jim sighed. "If they don't need the mining upgrades, if we even have any for them, then maybe they'll want more help with their medical technology. That's where you come in. See how they're doing on that end, and we'll let Starfleet know if there's anything there we can use to sweeten a deal."

"I don't know," McCoy said, frowning. "There's just something off about this place. But I can tell you that from what I've seen, they've got some very healthy people here. Not just pretty, or handsome, but I mean  _really_  healthy looking. And since I haven't seen any medical facilities yet, seems like a wasted morning for me." McCoy looked at him. "Do you just get a feeling that they're all show, and no real tell? All that's in the Federation records are things that most planets would dream of having. Or being."

"They must have a dark side, you mean."

"Most humanoid species do," McCoy remarked. "But, I guess, it's pretty universal that you don't air your dirty laundry in front of company. At least, not on the first day. Maybe I'm just bored and looking for something interesting to keep me entertained."

"I thought you loved wallowing in Spock's predicament."

"Oh, it was okay, for a while. But I'm not a real fan of a lot of that esoteric stuff. It's pretty, but doesn't do much for me." McCoy smiled. "But it did get better when Droxine started in on Spock. She really went after him. Do you know, she actually  _asked_  Spock about Vulcan mating habits?"

Jim laughed and lay down on his stomach, so that their sides touched. "Asked him to his face? Really? Wow. No wonder he turned green around the edges."

"Yeah. He did the Vulcan-Two-Step around the answer, to discourage her. But I could tell that that one really knocked him for a loop for a millisecond there."

"He's a smart guy," Jim said. "Quick on his feet. Makes him a good First Officer." They were silent for a few moments, and Jim stretched and lay his head on his crossed arms, looking at McCoy. He realized there was something about McCoy he didn't know. "Bones, what kind of art  _do_ you like?"

"Art? Oh, I don't know." McCoy shrugged and laced his fingers over his stomach as he stared at the ceiling. "Some of it's pretty. Some of it's ugly. It's a case by case basis, I guess. I don't care what people call their work, I still just see medical stuff in most of it. A couple of those works we saw today reminded me more of gall stones than anything else. That wiry red thing up on the wall? Made me think of the spread of an intestinal infection."

McCoy shook his head. "Maybe it's a doctor thing. Or I'm just warped that way. I guess I  _like_  art that really looks like something. Something real, I guess, like landscapes." McCoy sounded a little sheepish. "Earth holos. Trees. The most beautiful thing I ever saw as a kid was a weeping willow my aunt had in her back yard. When I was missin' my Ma, I'd go and sit under it, with my back to the trunk, and think of her. Made me feel like I was in a safe place, where no one could see me. Never did see a piece of work in any museum or studio that made me feel anything like that." He turned and gave Jim a shy smile. "I guess that makes me a philistine of the art world."

"No, it doesn't," Jim said softly. "Living things  _are_  beautiful. Well, a lot of them." Jim smiled. "I have to admit some can be downright, hellishly scary. Maybe it's because they're living, and they won't always be there, makes them even more special."

"Yeah. Like that tree. Long gone now." He paused for a minute. "What about you?"

"A little bit of everything, I guess." Jim shrugged one shoulder. "Depends on the piece. Depends on where it is, what it has around it. There's a lot of really nice stuff here, but there's just so  _much_  of it. I think having so much of it together makes me grow numb to it. I liked the Park a lot better. The Park made me want to run around like a kid."

McCoy rolled on his side, propping his head up with his hand. "You like interactive stuff. Things you can get involved with."

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "I know a lot of the Stratos' stuff feels frozen. Static. Nice for an office or a wall where you don't really notice it all the time. But it's not stuff that draws my attention, or keeps it."

They were quiet for a moment. Both lost in thought.

"Do you think the Ardanan's are really as 'advanced' as they want people to think they are? I mean, outside of all their artwork and philosophy and stuff," McCoy asked.

"Don't know. We need to try to find out."

"They may not need anything from us. Heck, they could be immortal, for all we know, and are hiding it. If we decided to retire here, I'd have nothing to do."

"Well, you wouldn't retire here without me, and I'd find  _something_  to keep you busy. You'd make one hell of a sex slave." He leaned over and kissed McCoy's lips, and got an appreciative hum in return. "But I..." Jim said, regretfully, "really need to take a nap before that dinner. A  _real_  nap."

"You're kicking me out?" McCoy said, with mock surprise. "After all this soul searching and secret confessions?"

"Yes. You're too distracting. I really do need some rest and I won't get any if you stay. Go on and get settled in your room. You'll love it. Peace and quiet."

"Peace and quiet." Sighing, McCoy pushed himself up and off the bed as Jim rolled over to watch him. "Yeah. If I wanted peace and quiet I wouldn't be dating a Starfleet Captain. I'd rather have afternoon sex on a strange bed. Shock the housekeeping services."

"Sorry, Old Man," Jim yawned. "Maybe after our big dinner tonight."

McCoy left, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like ' _Kids today and their lack of stamina'_.

Jim got up and set an alarm on his comm, and set it on a nearby table, then took off his shoes and stretched out on the bed.

_Doesn't mean I can't have some nice dreams of afternoon sex,_ he decided with a smile as he drifted off.

 

***

 

McCoy opened the balcony doors in the mostly-purple room and was enjoying the fresh air. He'd tried for a nap of his own, but it wasn't happening. He stood at the balcony entrance, uncomfortable enough with the height to not want to really see the drop down to the planet. He remembered Spock saying something about the city being almost nine kilometers from the surface. He thought about putting just one foot on the balcony. But he didn't seem to be moving either.

_I need to get over it. I'm safe up here,_ he told himself sternly.  _I'm not just going to fall off._

He wanted to convince himself that the fear he felt wasn't based in reality.

That didn't seem to work for him, either.

_It's just too damn high for me. Space stations are one thing, but this is another. This anti-gravity stuff has one hiccup, and we'd be pieces on the ground before we'd even had a chance to think about it. Or, even worse, we_ would  _have the chance to think about it._

There was a soft chime at his door, and McCoy was almost glad to be able to walk away from a view that seem to get more dangerous by the second. He walked to the door and tapped the button. Spock was standing there.

"Doctor. I assume I am not disturbing you?" Spock asked.

Surprised, McCoy stepped back to let Spock in. "No, come on in. Was there something you needed?"

"Since we have several hours yet until the mandatory Welcome dinner, I have decided it would be better to spend my time touring the area myself. Plasus has not expressly forbidden us from seeing the city on our own. If you find yourself with free time, as I do, I suggest we take our own tour of the city."

"You mean, see how many restricted areas we can sneak into? Get a peek at the good stuff?"

Spock tilted his head, his eyes crinkling in slight amusement. "That was not my original intent. But if we should find ourselves in a restricted area, and are not stopped, then that would tell us a lot about their security, and the area we are in."

"And if we are stopped?"

"We shall apologize and leave."

"Won't they be watching us?" McCoy asked, waving at the ceilings. "And get twitchy if we roam on our own?"

"The Ardanan's do not have any visual recording systems that would allow them to follow their citizens through the city," Spock replied. "They consider such devices an intrusion on their privacy and the mark of an inferior culture."

"So, they wouldn't catch us sneaking around," McCoy smiled. "Our own adventure. Sounds like fun."

Just as Spock was about to reply, the chime of McCoy's door sounded again.

"Well, aren't I the popular one," he muttered as he went to open it.

A young woman with brown hair and green eyes, dressed in a flowing blue dress, stood outside. "I'm sorry to bother you, Doctor. I am Vanna, a retainer for the house of Plasus. Strato's High Healer, Treymor has invited you to visit our Healing center. If you have time now, I can escort you to the facility."

_Well, and here I thought that they were ignoring my requests to meet some of their medical team. Maybe they thought they were being friendly by letting me take the art tour first._

"Come in and I'll grab my medkit," McCoy said, stepping back from the door. As she came in he noticed Vanna's eyes widened slightly as she suddenly noticed Spock.

_Apparently thought I was alone._

"That sounds good," McCoy said. "I'd love to meet Healer Treymor and get a look at things." He then turned to Spock. "Want to come with me, and save our tour for later? A second set of eyes wouldn't hurt."

Spock nodded. "I find that agreeable, Doctor."

"Good. Just let me grab my kit."

He went over and grabbed his basic medkit from the bed, and buckled it on, then joined Vanna and Spock at the door. "We should probably tell the Captain where we're going."

Vanna, who still seemed a bit flustered by Spock's presence, turned quickly to McCoy. "We can notify him for you. If he is resting, you will not want to disturb him."

McCoy looked to Spock, who nodded his agreement.  _No use getting him up for this. He told us to see what we could. And we've got our communicators._

"Okay, we're ready then."

Vanna nodded, and led the way.

It was, McCoy had to admit, another nice walk. He was still impressed with the way they could circulate, warm and oxygenate the air, with no visible shield to get in the way. He still missed the fact that there would never be clouds overhead. 

_But they say that the view of the stars is spectacular. And as tall as these buildings are, the park will have twilight a lot earlier than those on the ground. Maybe, at night, it will look a lot homier and less structured._

Their walk took them across the city. All the buildings were grand, and most made of metal, with all sorts of decorate finishings. But the more important ones seemed to be built of marble-like blocks. McCoy couldn't even begin to calculate the weight of even one building, although he was certain Spock could. They took some alleyways between buildings, and McCoy was struck by how the clean and well maintained they all were. This area gave off more of a work place vibe, rather than the showy, artistic-like building their rooms were in.

_I guess if you're practicing medicine, it's not as 'artistic' as some of the other trades._

McCoy was surprised when they entered a small, alley-side door into a narrow, quiet hallway. He shot a look at Spock, who seemed to be thinking the same thing.  _T_

_his doesn't look, sound or even smell like a hospital facility. Too damn quiet. Maybe we're just a long way away from where the patients are. Strange that they'd take us in a back door, though._

"Is this where Healer Treymor's office is?" McCoy asked. "Rather than where he actually practices?"

"Healer Treymor thought you would like to see his research area first. It's this way, gentlemen." She waved them into a small lift, then pressed several buttons on a panel McCoy couldn't make heads nor tails of. The lift moved smoothly, taking them down rather than up, as McCoy had expected.

The ride down was a silent one, and McCoy found himself feeling uncomfortable. He glanced at Spock, but couldn't tell what his impression was.

_But how would I know if this really is unusual? I don't live or work here. That's the trouble with new places. You can always feel a bit lost and out of it, even when you're not._

The lift opened into a large, warehouse sized room filled with what looked like boxes and moving equipment. McCoy looked around, even more confused and out of place as they followed Vanna further out of the lift.

"Sorry, Miss? But are you sure--"

Before he could even finish the sentence, Vanna whirled to face them, and stepped back. "Take them both!"

Suddenly, several men jumped out from behind the various crates and machinery. They were all dressed in work overalls, with bandanas tied over their long hair. And they were all very large, and very strong. McCoy instinctively backed up to Spock, who had turned and done the same. Out of the corner of his eye McCoy could see that they were surrounded.

_Oh, shit! Gotta call the ship!_

Before he could reach for his communicator, they were jumped. McCoy went into action, using all the fighting techniques he had learned and practiced at the Academy. He knew the humanoid weak and sensitive spots, going for the eyes, throats and even felt a flash of satisfaction when he kneed one of their attackers in the balls. But they made their own strikes, and McCoy took a few hits to his face and the back of his head, slowing him down. Behind him, he could hear Spock giving as good as he got. His superior Vulcan strength meant he made some headway, and was even able to tear one of McCoy's attackers off of him after shaking off his own. But just as Spock had been able to grab some sort of metal tool and make his attackers back off a step or two, McCoy felt his knee kicked sideways and he was tackled to the ground. The pain was sharp and nauseating, and he almost blacked out from it, but kept struggling with the man who'd landed on top of him.

Both McCoy and Spock froze as McCoy felt a sharp, thin blade against the skin of his neck, just under his ear. He grabbed at the arm around his throat, but the knife moved. It was just a nick, but the threat stopped him cold.

_Bastard's got my carotid artery. I move, I'm dead._ The pain in his knee made him clench up. Even if he could get away, he wasn't getting far.

Spock, breathing heavily and bleeding from his mouth and a nostril, slowly held up both the weapon and his empty hand. He eyes were sharp and scanned both McCoy and their attackers. Half a minute later, both McCoy's medkit and his comm, as well as Spock's, were taken.

Scanning around frantically, McCoy couldn't see what their next move could be. They were at the back of the large, warehouse-sized room, and there was no one there but the two Enterprise crewmen and their attackers. Behind him, too close for his peace of mind, was a large opening. Clearly a dock of some sort that was 'closed' only by a low, chain fence. Outside was just clear air and a nine kilometer drop. They couldn't get to the lift in time, and McCoy couldn't see over or around all the boxes and equipment to see any other exits.

_At least Spock got some of them,_ McCoy thought with satisfaction, seeing the four men Spock had laid out. Three of them were starting to get up, but there were still at least a dozen more standing around, their eyes on their captives. Not even Spock could keep that many from bringing him down.

Vanna had raised a hand, and McCoy knew that the fight would start up again if she dropped it.

"We only need one." She pointed at McCoy. "Toss him."

It took him a second to react, to understand that they meant to throw him out of the opening and out into the open sky.

A wave of panic flooded him. Not caring about the knife, or his knee, or anything else other than to keep the men who held him from moving him closer to the opening, McCoy struck out around him.

He fought frantically, yelling and cussing. He heard Spock yell something unintelligible, and the sounds of fighting in his direction renew. Several sets of hands grabbed at his arms, his legs, and he struggled to shake them off. Suddenly, he thrown into the air, and he flailed out. A hand caught his forearm and he grabbed back. In a second that lasted a whole life time, he felt himself falling but was suddenly jerked to a stop, his shoulder almost dislocated by his own weight. Above him was Spock, who had somehow thrown himself over the chain barrier after McCoy, and had one hand around McCoy's forearm and the other above him clutching to the chain link fence. There were faces above them, still inside Stratos, grimly watching them from above. Vanna was there, as well, and McCoy saw her say something to the men around her and turn away. He couldn't hear anything but the wind whipping around him and his own frantic, crazy, heartbeat in his ears.

_DON'TLOOKDOWNDON'TLOOKDOWN_

If he looked down, he'd lose it completely.

Then one man stepped forward and started stomping on Spock's hand, trying to break the Vulcan's hold on the chain. Their only connection to Stratos.

_They only need one. It can be him. They can still save him, pull him up. Jim can't lose us both!_

McCoy let go of Spock's forearm, but Spock's grip on McCoy's arm only tightened. The Vulcan, clearly determined, glared down at him.

"Let me go!" McCoy ordered.

He didn't know if Spock could hear him through the swirl of wind. He couldn't even hear himself. Spock only gritted his teeth and tried to heave McCoy further up. But in that moment McCoy heard small cracks that must have been them breaking Spock's fingers, and they both plummeted.

It was eerie. More than strange. Falling was different than he'd remembered. A small part of his mind was twelve again, the feeling of freefall in an atmosphere something exciting and scary before the blackness came. The bigger part of his mind was still an adult, ticking down the seconds he had left. No longer fighting because there was nothing left to do. Nothing left to grab on to, because he'd even lost Spock. He drew himself into a ball as the wind tried to catch his limbs, and closed his eyes. He didn't have to watch the ground come up at him.

_I'm so SORRY!_ Visions of Jim flashed through his mind.  _I never meant to leave you. Not ever._

The hurt in his mind was for Jim, and his own regret in causing it.

Suddenly, he was jolted, as Spock's body slammed into his from behind and curled around McCoy like a second skin. Then they went from falling to tumbling. And somehow, during a stomach wrenching turn as the air whipped past them, he recognized the screaming vibration of his internal organs as the grip of a transporter.

_The ship?_

But as the unpleasant tingling spread, he knew it wasn't the ship. The ship's transporters were smooth and felt like shimmering silk on his nerves. This was harsh, stinging and uncomfortable.

And as he dissolved into the beam, as they both did, he had time for one last thought.

_I guess the fall won't kill me after all. A damned transporter will._

 

***

 

When McCoy awoke, it was because of the pain. He hurt all over, but his knee was screaming at him, loud and strong. Before he opened his eyes, he could tell that he wasn't falling anymore, and that there was something half-way soft under him. Whatever it was smelled of dirt and fear.

_Or is that me?_ McCoy's fuddled thoughts seemed to skip around from the pain. He wasn't sure he wanted to know where he was. 

_Time to wake up. That knee isn't going to leave me alone unless someone fixes it. Guess who that'll probably be?_

When he opened his eyes, Spock's concerned face was hovering above him. He looked as roughed up, bruised and wind swept as McCoy felt.

"Doctor? Are you well?"

"I'm alive," McCoy said, his voice sounding as gravely as his eyes felt. He rubbed at his face. "Considering I didn't go splat, I'm just dandy."

Spock didn't look convinced. "I will get you some water. I have bound up your knee and the cut on your throat, but so far they have allowed me little in the way of medical supplies."

"They?" McCoy felt at the bandage at his neck. It felt dry and tacky, meaning he'd bled through it at some point. His stomach was still rolling in waves, and the pain in his knee wasn't helping. "No water. Not yet. I'd just vomit it back up. Who's 'they', and what happened?"

"They are the Disrupters," Spock began. He was sitting next to McCoy, and McCoy noticed he was favoring his left hand. "And we are hostages. I believe they plan to use us both as a negotiating tools with the Stratos High Council. We are somewhere on Ardana, but I do not have enough information to be specific."

"Okay, you've been at work while I've been out," McCoy sat up carefully. His right leg had been splinted and wrapped to keep his knee stable. But even now McCoy could feel it swelling under the bandages. He looked around. He was on some sort of large mattress on a red dirt floor. It had been shoved into a corner of what looked to be a worked-out cave pocket. There were metal bars on the only opening, and some sort of ball lights in the ceiling. No windows. "What happened to knock me out? How _long_  was I out?"

"We were taken by the transporter, and unfortunately materialized in a position where we fell half a meter or so, on your bad leg. You were unconscious for about 30 minutes. I assume you passed out from the pain and shock."

"Sounds right." McCoy sighed. He pushed himself backward a little, so he could lean against the rock wall. Even that little bit of movement made him want to cry out, but he grit his teeth around it. "Do we have time for triage? Let me see the hand."

Spock moved back a little, turning his body to shield the hand from McCoy's sight. "It will be fine, Doctor."

"Sure. Let me see it anyway." And when Spock started to say something, McCoy glared at him. "Now."

If Spock ever took to sighing in defeat, that would have been the moment. But he just raised an eyebrow at McCoy and held his hand out. Knowing that Spock didn't usually like to be touched, he grabbed his wrist, keeping Spock's shirt sleeve between them. He moved the hand up where he could see it better.

_The three middle fingers slightly swollen, and a lot of colors of green in there and on the back of the hand. Took a hell of a wallop, but better a boot than a knife. They're straight, which is a blessing, so I won't have to mess with setting them here. He'll need them bandaged up to keep them out of his way, but nothing that shouldn't heal on its own if I can't get my MedKit back._

"Okay, they're broken, as if you didn't know," McCoy stated. "Anything else I should see? And  _don't_ lie to me."

"Vulcans do not lie," Spock said stiffly.

"Sure they do. They just call it something else."

Spock glared at him with annoyance. "Some bruises and scrapes. Nothing more."

"Okay, I'll take your word for it. For now. You bandaged my knee? Did a good job keeping it stable."

McCoy carefully unwrapped the bandage and then tried to pull up his pant leg to see it, but the movement send jolts up his leg that had him grunting with pain and wanting to vomit. That clearly wasn't going to work.

"Would it not be better to remove your uniform pants?" Spock asked.

McCoy huffed in amusement.  _Always with the straight lines._

"Always knew you wanted me outta my pants, Spock. Yeah, I can't see what's going on with them on, and I'd rather they didn't get ripped up just yet. Even  _if_  you could rip this stuff." He undid the fastener at his waist and nodded at Spock to pull his uniformed pants off him. The knee looked swollen and blue in places. He had other bruises up and down his legs as well. Gently, he probed the knee.

_Feels like a severe grade three sprain, with a torn posterior cruciate ligament, and the meniscotibial and menicofemoral damaged as well. Probably the tibial collateral ligament ruptered. Not a hard fix if I could get the ends together and use the laser regenerator to join them. Then a few days with a brace, just for support as it healed. But looks like I won't be getting that here. I'm not even sure I could do it myself, even if I had the equipment. It's an odd angle. I won't be running any marathons, or even standing on it without a heavier brace._

He sighed and leaned back against the wall. Spock looked at him questioningly. "I won't die from it, but there's no quick fix without the right medical tools. If we pack it up tight, I could limp on it, but it's going to hurt like hell. I probably wouldn't get too far. How deep is the neck wound?" He touched the bit of bandage at his neck.

"Very shallow. But it is fairly long. About 10 centimeters."

McCoy pulled off the bandage, wincing as the sticky part pulled at his skin. "Is it starting to bleed again?"

Spock leaned closer and inspected the wound and McCoy moved his head aside so Spock could see better.

"It seems to have clotted sufficiently," Spock said.

"Then we can leave it open. Any bacteria that doesn't like me is already in it. Now, about our situation. Why toss us out of Ardana if the Disrupters wanted us as hostages? That's a crazy way to move prisoners."

"I do not think they wanted  _us_ , but had planned to kidnap  _you_ ," Spock explained. "I believe their transporter is one that the Ardanan government on Stratos is unaware of, and that they had to get you out of the range of the city's blocking shield. The only way to do that would be to fly you out or drop you from the city. Apparently, they did not want you on a shuttle or any other type of ship. They may not have been sure they could avoid detection on those. The Stratos Dwellers keep close eye on who, and what, comes and goes from the city."

"Why me?"

"Technically," Spock said with an amused tilt of his head, "a First Officer is more expendable than a Captain or Doctor, so of lesser value. The Captain would be more secure and his movements watched, and they might have trouble getting him alone for his abduction. You would be the next logical choice. You would be expected to move separately from the Captain at times, and to meet with the city's medical personnel, thus leaving you alone and vulnerable."

"Oh, goody, I  _am_  valued by Ardanan society," McCoy said, sarcastically. "Just not for my doctoring skills. And I can't say I approve much of their travel plan. Who _thinks_ like that? It's _crazy_. What if that damned transporter hadn't worked?"

"Then, they would been unsuccessful in acquiring hostages," Spock said. "We were moved into this cell after our transport, and given these very rudimentary medical supplies. But I do think the leader, an older man who the others seem to defer to, may be more forthcoming with information and supplies."

"Okay. Might as well see what we can get from him. I don't think I'll be walking on this leg or crawling any time soon. Help me get these pants back on."

Spock did, then stood and walked up to the bars. "We are in need of medical attention!" Spock said loudly, testing the bars as he did so. McCoy didn't see any of them move.

"I'm coming!" Someone yelled down the rough walled hallway.

After a few moments, an elderly man came into view behind the metal bars. He was standing in the shadows, but McCoy could see that he looked as old and brittle as he sounded. He had once been strongly built, but age had withered him to almost bone. His face was wrinkled, his hair white and long, tied at the back of his head. He wore dark brown clothing that hung off him, as if he'd worn them when he was years younger. He had an old-fashioned nasal cannula that was connected to a small pack around his waist. McCoy suspected it was for oxygen delivery. He leaned heavily on a cane, watching them from just outside the bars.

"I am Wrent. What is it that you need? I'm afraid we don't have a healer available for you."

"I  _am_  a doctor," McCoy said from his corner of the room. "I need my medkit and a tissue regenerator."

"I'm afraid we don't have any of those," Wrent said with a huff. "What medical miracles we have on Ardana are on Stratos, not here. I have more bandages, some thread and needles for stitching, and some pain killers."

_Oh, joy, I'm trapped in the stone age._

"Okay, I'll take the pain killers and some more bandages. Better than nothing. And some ice for the swelling?"

"That we do have," Wrent said happily. He yelled a name that McCoy couldn't make out, and gave the man who arrived orders to produce the requested supplies.

_Okay, one old man and one young one. I wonder how many Spock has seen? If we're on the ground, they probably have a whole army of them. I don't know how we can get through that. And without our communicators, we can't contact the ship, and they can't scan every living being on this planet to find us, if they even have a clue we're on the ground. Guess we may be here for a while._

"What do you plan to demand for our release?" Spock asked Wrent. "You do know that the Federation does not negotiate for hostages?"

"So we've heard," Wrent said. "But we will certainly get what we want. Their attention and their ear."

"And what do you think that's going to accomplish," McCoy asked. "Other than pissing a lot of people off, including the Captain of the Enterprise."

Wrent's eyes grew steely. "The Stratos Dwellers have lied about us, the Troglytes, and themselves, long enough. We are not the unevolved, slow and inferior members of our species, Doctor. And we will prove that we are entitled to the same life above as the High Council. Do you know, that _I_  built that transporter, from parts the Stratos Dwellers had no use for? Damned proud of it, even though it isn't the smoothest one ever used. Do you also know that most of the repairmen, and technicians, who keep Stratos running are Troglytes?" Wrent shook his head.

"You built the transporter?" Spock raised an eyebrow. "I was lead to believe that the Troglytes society did not have, nor encourage, the sciences. But were a more... rustic and luddite form of Ardanan society."

"You mean, they told you we were inferior. Stupid and hot headed. That all we're good for, or at, is mining, farming and servitude."

"I would agree that Plasus' attitude would confer such a belief on their part," Spock replied.

"Well, some of us  _are_  hot, headed, and a bit slow," Wrent said grudgingly. He grew angrier. "But we're  _not_  stupid. And it's not just we Troglytes who the High Council imprison on this planet." Wrent leaned closer to stage whisper, "It's the Stratos Dwellers themselves."

"And how's that?" McCoy asked.

Wrent shook his head. "Tell me, Doctor, have they let you look at their medical facilities?"

"No, they haven't."

"And they would have found some excuse for you  _not_  to see them. And that's because there's very little actual medical practice done on Stratos beyond a bit of emergency and hospice care. Have you not asked yourself how a population such as that on Stratos is maintained when it cannot expand outward? Not even down to the surface?" Wrent asked. "When out and around that fine city, did you not notice anything unusual in what is supposed to be a growing, thriving populace?"

_I knew something felt off. But everyone looked healthy..._ and then something came to him.

"Not enough children for the population size," McCoy said, replaying their walk in the park in his head. "And not enough elderly. But that's just the portion of the population I could see, during the day, and not a good representation--"

Wrent shook his head. "No, you are correct. There is more at play in their population growth, or lack of it, than even the people themselves know. And if they knew, they'd be horrified." Wrent coughed, and to McCoy's ear it had the sound of something deep, embedded in the lungs. "But there are things I must do. Soon you will know what we need to tell you."

As Wrent walked away, a young man came with two small bowls and a roll of bandages. He slid them under the lower set of bars, then glared at them and left.

Spock took the supplies over to McCoy. "Do you intend to take the pain killer?"

McCoy shook his head before even examining the bowl's contents. One was filled with small, uneven chunks of ice and the other with what looked like small packets of cloth filled with herbs. He picked one up and smelled it, but it wasn't anything he recognized. "No. Not without analyzing it. If they'd wanted us dead, we'd be spread over the landscape already. But that doesn't mean they know what they're doing with their own medical supplies. Or what a Terran's reaction could be. I just figured we should take anything we can get.”

Spock sat down carefully on the edge of the mattress and nodded. "Very wise, Doctor. Will the ice be of any use?"

"To get me up and walking? No. But it might make some of the swelling go down." He folded up a bit of bandage and filled it with ice and placed it on his knee. There wasn't much of it, and he wasn't going to hold his breathe that it would really help. "I could use some of that water now."

Spock reached over and passed him the cup. McCoy hoped that that wasn't all they'd be getting. Dehydration wouldn't help.

"So, any grand escape plans?" He asked after taking a drink and setting it down. At least his stomach had settled.

"There are possibilities. But I do not see trying any escape attempt until after nightfall, when the number of guards outside should be minimal."

"How long until sundown?"

"About four hours."

"Then that Welcome dinner won't start for a while."

"Not until after sunset. Their custom is not to eat the last meal of the day until then."

"Jim will start wondering where we are in a bit." McCoy sighed and closed his eyes. "He usually doesn't nap for more than a couple of hours, if that. And we didn't leave him a note. I doubt Vanna will be kind enough to let him know where we are so he won't worry."

"I have a feeling that the Disrupters will use the dinner to present their demands. But I do agree that the Captain will be alerted to our absence before then."

_And Jim will hit the roof. I'd hate to be them when he does. He'll find some way to find us and get us out of here, if we can't do it ourselves. Because I know the Federation won't authorize any trade for us._

_We may be here a while._

 

***

 

When Jim awoke, it took him a second to remember where he was. It didn't take long before the memory of the tour came back to him. He stretched and grabbed his comm, checking the time, and realize he'd slept just less than two hours.

_And no emergencies? That's a record._

He felt good and ready to face the Welcome dinner the High Council would have in a couple more hours. He didn't look forward to it, but he had time to prepare and maybe get some alone time to wander around a bit on his own. He got up and visited the 'fresher, then left his room for McCoy's. The chime at his door went unanswered. He tried it once again. Still nothing. He checked to see if the door was locked. It was.

_Maybe he's in with Spock, needling him some more about Droxine._

The chime at Spock's door went unanswered as well. It was also locked. Jim opened his comm and called McCoy. There was no answer from him or Spock.

_They could both be sightseeing, but one or the other would pick up their comm. Bones might get caught up in something he couldn't just drop at a second's notice, but Spock would pick up._

There were no messages, from either of his officers, or the ship. Jim re-entered his room.

"Kirk to Uhura."

"Uhura here, Captain."

"Has either McCoy or Spock contacted you in the last couple of hours?"

He heard some concern in her voice at his question. "No, Sir. They haven't."

"I want you to ping their communicators and see if you can pinpoint where they are. I know Stratos has a shield up, but if we can communicate through it we should be able to get a ping back from them and estimate the location."

"Yes, sir."

Fingers of apprehension seemed to crawl up Jim's spine, and he found himself pacing while he waited. It was taking too long. Glancing down the hall, it was empty except for a Sentinel standing at the hall entrance. It wasn't the same man who had been there when they arrived after the tour.

"Captain?"

"Go ahead, Uhura."

"I am getting nothing at all from their comms," she said, clearly worried now.

"Nothing? No reply at all?"

"There is nothing at those frequencies. No acceptance response and no ping back of the signal."

It could be nothing. Some weird interference in the area they were in. But that apprehension was now more of a crawling itch. "Switch me to Chekov."

"I am here, Captain."

"Scan the city for Spock and McCoy's comms, Chekov, but keep it gentle. Don't let Stratos Security know you're looking."

It didn't take more than a minute for Chekov to report back. "I can't get a good reading inside their defence shield, captain. Not unless I use a deeper scan. Even then, I'm not sure how much we could read."

"Okay, hold off on that, then." His searched for all his possible options. "Work with Uhura and check the communication maintenance logs. See when the last time the computer automatically checked the comms. I know that it usually checks the links every few minutes when they're off ship. If the comms went off-line, that should pinpoint the time pretty clearly."

"Yes, Sir."

Once again he paced, chewing at his lip in thought.  _What else could keep their comms from replying? If you know the frequency, you could block them. Or you'd have to destroy them in some way. Remove the power source._

"Sir?"

"Yes, Chekov."

"The last contact the ship had with both Doctor McCoy and Mr. Spock's comms was about seventy-five minutes ago. I cannot be sure, without a true triangulation, but the strength and power of the reply ping shows that the comms would have been, mostly likely, on Stratos. As any ping from the surface would have taken a fraction of a second longer."

"Both stopped responding at the same time?"

"Both responded to one system check, then not the next," Chekov clarified. "There was about three minutes between the checks."

_Close enough to be the same time. Were they together when the comms went, or not?_

"Stay alert for any contact, Mr. Chekov. Let me know as soon as you or Uhura get any sort of signal from those comms."

"Yes, Sir."

Jim pressed the room's intercom button.

"Yes, Captain?" strange female voice answered.

"I seem to have misplaced my First Officer and CMO," Jim began, working to keep his casual. "I'm afraid I need some help in finding them."

"One moment, Captain." She signed off, and Jim found himself pacing his own room. A few minutes later, there was a chime at his door.

When he opened it he saw a young, brown-haired woman, dressed in the midriff revealing and flowing dress as the other women in Stratos wore. She smiled at him.

"My name is Vanna, Captain, Retainer to the house of Plasus. How many I help you?"

"I seem to have misplaced my First Officer and my Chief Medical Officer," Jim said with a polite smile. "Would you know where they might have gone?"

"I can check for you, Captain," Vanna said pleasantly. "We have many things to see on Stratos. I'm sure they are just enjoying the city. But if you will wait here, I will ask for you."

"Thank you," Jim said. Vanna turned to leave.

_Twenty-minutes. I'll give them that. Then I'll start looking myself if I have to. Someone should be able to steer me to the local hospital or other medical services. If Bones is going to be anywhere, it'll be there. Spock could be anywhere he could get a peek at their Science, maintenance or support areas. Bones will be easier to find._

He knew he could be worrying for nothing. But knowing that didn't make him feel any less uneasy. And it sure didn't help pass the time. He itched to call the Enterprise again, but it was too early to take any further steps.

But he hadn't had to wait long, after ten minutes, Vanna was back at the door.

"I'm sorry, Captain, but we have no information about your First Officer or your Chief Medical Officer. I have called the Head of Security, Landor. He may be able to help you."

"Fine," Jim said. "I'd like to talk to him."

"He's on his way." Vanna studied him closely.

When Landor arrived, he was polite, but clearly not very concerned, even when Jim explained that his men would never willingly be out of touch. The tall, middle aged man, clearly seemed to think that the Captain had nothing to worry about. But he promised that he would send word out to all the Sentinels to keep an eye out for the pair. "I am sure they are just touring, Captain. Stratos has a lot to offer, and its people friendly."

"Great," Jim said just as politely. "Then you can take me to your Health Center. I'm sure my Chief Medical Officer will be there, if he has the whole city to choose from."

Landor nodded. "It is this way."

_They're too unconcerned._ Jim's gut told him.  _There's something going on, I can feel it. If I don't find Spock and McCoy soon, very soon, things are going to get very ugly, very quickly._

 

***

 

McCoy tried to rest, but the last few hours had seemed to drag into eternity.

He didn't like to think about Jim worrying about him, so he tried to think about something else. And that led him to thinking about their capture and their fight. Looking back on it, he felt uncomfortably embarrassed. Spock was standing by the door, with his hands behind his back. Either he was deep in thought or he was keeping quiet so McCoy could rest.

"Spock?" McCoy said quietly, waving him over.

Spock came over and sat down on the edge of the mattress. "Yes, Doctor?"

"I just... I just wanted to say I'm sorry about the fight. I didn't exactly have your back the way I should have."

Spock looked at him, an eyebrow raised in surprise. "I found no fault in your actions, Doctor."

"Look, can we pretend we're off duty for a while, since we've got time to kill."

Spock nodded. "If you wish, Leonard."

"I  _know_  I'm a lousy fighter," McCoy began, feeling he needed to say something. "I barely passed the classes at the Academy. Jim taught me some moves, but I don't think I remembered many of them back there. Especially once I knew they were going to throw me off the platform. I think... I  _know_... that I lost my head there. I should have handled it better."

Spock was silent for a moment, studying him. "Leonard," Spock said in a gentle voice, "I know that most Terran men grow up with pre-conceived notions about what it means to be brave. Especially when it comes to male dominance and peer pressure. Humans are  _not_  alone in that," Spock admitted. "Vulcans have a more violent history of such power issues between males than Terrans do. So believe me when I say I did not, nor have I ever, seen you act in any way that could be construed as cowardly or weak. Your skill as a Doctor, as a healer, more than outweighs any weakness' you might have in other areas. It is only logical that your first instincts are to do no harm, so hurting someone would be counter to your nature. It is, I believe, part of the Hippocratic Oath, is it not?"

"Yeah, it is," McCoy admitted. He felt touched by Spock's understanding. He knew Jim understood him, but not everyone did. There were always those few who believed that doctors were cowards at heart, because they weren't the first in the firing line when shit went down. Those same men would then gladly depend on him to put them back together afterwards. "I... thanks. I just hate it when... well, I don't want people to feel like they can't depend on me when things go down."

Spock raised another eyebrow. "I don't know of anyone who thinks that of you. And it was an unusual situation for you. You seem to have advanced in your struggle to handle your aviophobia and your great dislike of heights. There should be no shame in the fact that situation was hard for you to deal with."

"Yeah, it was," McCoy said with a sigh. He was so tired, and trying  _not_  to think about the pain of his knee was wearing him out fast. He just really wanted Spock to understand. "But it's been hard, since my phobia was trauma induced, to work around it. I  _know_  it's unreasonable and illogical. I've had the psych classes. Had the therapy. But doing something about it... It's just not something I can turn on and off. Work helps, though. But it's kind of ghoulish to wish I had something to do to keep my mind busy when that means someone'd have to be hurt."

"You say it's trauma based," Spock said carefully. "May I ask?"

McCoy gave him a weak smile. It wasn't much of a smile, but he meant it to be encouraging. "You can always ask, Spock. As long as you don't mind me blowing you off when I don't want to answer. Yeah...."

McCoy sighed and rubbed at his face. The bruises there protested. "I was really sorry when you lost your mother," McCoy began, his voice low. "I lost mine when I was twelve."

"You were young. Were you very close?"

"Oh, yeah. As an only child, I spent a lot of time with her. She was a pediatric surgeon. Pretty well known. Awful good with kids. I'd go with her a lot. Play with the sick kids while she talked to the parents. Seems like I grew up in hospitals, with both my parents being Doctors and all."

He sighed at the memories that came flooding back, then continued.

"When I was twelve, there was a little girl in Salem who needed some specialized surgery, so Ma was on a shuttle from Atlanta to Salem, when, about half way there, there was a problem. One of the engines tore itself up. Found out later it was maintenance thing. The airspace was crowded, and the shuttle she was on sideswiped another one in mid-air. The other shuttle, a much bigger cargo one, made it down, but it's external wing scraped out one side of the passenger shuttle. Took out four of the window seats all together, left a few inner ones dangling. Impact killed eight people, one person was sucked out. It happened in seconds. The pilots made what they called a 'miraculous' landing and saved the other passengers. I was one of the survivors."

He could see the inside of the shuttle in his mind. Remember every long, never ending second of it. His own voice seemed far away. McCoy took a big breath, and tried to remove himself from the scene in his head.

"I was sitting next to her when it hit. She was there, then suddenly, she wasn't. Just the wind and sky. I was falling. If I hadn't been strapped in... I don't think I even realized I was still on the shuttle. I was pretty banged up, had a concussion that turned out to be pretty dangerous. Broken arm and collar bone. I don't even remember losing consciousness until we hit the ground. Literally hit it. Just remember the falling. A lifetime of it. All I wanted was to be with my Ma. And somehow she'd gotten lost." He sighed. "I know she died instantly. That it was one of those rare accidents, and that millions fly on them daily and have no problem. That they're safer than a lot of other forms of travel. But..."

He shrugged. Even that hurt. " _But_. It's always there. I never can quite shut it out completely. Time's dulled it a lot. Hell, it's been over twenty years. Maybe twenty more and I'll never even think about it again. Although, being out here, traveling in space, being with Jim, I don't know if I can really ever let it go."

He looked over at Spock, who's dark eyes showed understanding and sympathy without having to do anything at all. McCoy could see it, if most couldn't.

"Jim knows. It's no secret. He's been beyond patient with me. And I'm working on it." He nodded toward Spock. "I know people who've had worse happen. You've lost more than the rest of us have, all put together. You deal. I will too. Eventually."

Spock seemed to deflate a bit, even if his posture didn't change. McCoy couldn't even begin to understand the loss of a whole planet, and his mother, at the same time. Why the guy wasn't insane with it, or frozen by despair, McCoy didn't know. But all the Vulcans seemed to be dealing with it. At least, on the outside.

"I can certainly understand your feelings on the matter, Doctor. But even I am not certain that I...  _deal_... with it very well. I do not believe I have the control others of my kind have. I am only  _half_  Vulcan, after all."

"Well, it certainly doesn't show."

Spock's mouth turned up slightly and he nodded. "Thank you, Leonard."

"Why did you jump after me?" McCoy asked. "Did you know what they planned on doing? Picking me out of mid-air like that?"

Spock took a big breath and seem to gather himself. "I had a vague suspicion. Vanna had come for  _you_ , not me. It wasn't logical that they would keep me and dispose of you. If they had wanted  _me_ , an invitation to see their anti-gravity center would have done just as well to separate us as your invitation to tour the Healing Center. But, no, I did not know for certain what they were planning. Falling toward Stratos was not my first choice of action. It just so happened that there was no other option."

"But you  _did_  have an option. You could have let me go when I told you to. Then only one of us would have fallen."

Spock blinked slowly, as if debating his answer. "I could not let anything happen to the ship's Doctor," he said carefully, a moment later. "The Captain would be hard pressed to replace you."

"That goes for both of us," McCoy said with a sigh. "I just hate to think how pissed off and upset Jim's going to be about this."

"If we can find our way back to the ship, then that will relieve the Captain a great deal, I'm sure," Spock said. "Since there is not much we can do in the meantime, I would suggest you get some sleep. I will keep watch and try to put together further options."

"Yeah, okay." McCoy slid down to try to find a comfortable spot to rest. There really wasn't any, because as soon as he tried to relax all his other aches and pains started to make themselves known.

"And... thank you," Spock said quietly. "For answering my question."

"Thank  _you_ , for caring enough to ask," McCoy said, just as gently.

Spock nodded, and went to stand by the door once again.

McCoy tried to relax enough to drift off. But all he could come up with was the fading memories of his mother. It  _had_  felt good to talk about her, even if it was just the scary part of his memory of her.

_Maybe I don't talk about her enough._

He didn't know if that would help him more, in the long run. When he got back to the ship, maybe he should call his Pa.

Maybe they both should talk more about her, to each other.

Maybe his Pa still needed some help too.

 

***

 

Two hours of searching had left the Captain of the Enterprise still without his missing men and little to go on. He had requested, and gotten permission, for Sulu and Lieutenant Hendorff from Security to beam down and accompany him. Sulu to help him brainstorm ways through the situation, and Hendorff as his personal protection. Not that Jim felt he needed it at this point, but Hendorff was a good man to have at his back. Uhura had requested to attend as well, but Jim had decided she needed to stay on the ship and search for clues from there. He couldn't blame her for trying.

But the sun had set and there hadn't been any real progress.

Since the High Council would not drop their shield in order to let the Enterprise crewmen beam down directly into the city, Jim had to be at one of the transporter balconies to gather his men. It was just another annoyance, making Jim feel that the Council was going to be hard-nosed about everything.

"Gentlemen," Jim said quietly to his men as he led them down the main hallway to the Council room. "We have no real clues to Spock and McCoy's disappearance. The Council has been dragging its feet in even admitting that they could be missing. They wanted to think that they were just off, 'sightseeing'.

"Then they don't know Starfleet Officers," Sulu said. "Especially not those two."

"My thought exactly," Jim said. "Keep your eyes and ears open, because I don't trust that if they do find anything, that I will be the first to know. I think they're hiding things. I don't know what, yet, but we'll stay alert and compare notes. Sulu, I want you to discreetly record all conversations and transmit them to Uhura. She and Chekov need to stay updated, and if there are any clues we miss she'll catch them."

"Yes, Sir."

Suddenly, Hendorff stopped, looking to their left. "Captain?"

The hallway was filled with people walking leisurely to their destinations. All were young, or barely middle aged, and all look healthy, dressed artistically in the Stratos classical flowing dresses and artfully draped robes. Most barely looked at the three strangers that stood in their midst. A second before Jim was going to asked Hendorff what had stopped him, he heard it.

It was an echoing, pulsing sound, and then he heard a faint cry of pain. "Come," Jim ordered, taking off in that direction. It took them a few minutes to get to the end of the long hall, but they broke into a run as a cry of pain and terror grew stronger.

Jim skidded on the slick, marble floor, almost overshooting as he suddenly realized they'd almost run past the entrance to the room they were looking for. He adjusted, and the three of them spilled into a large room, open room. Several people, including Plasus and some Sentinels, stood around a man who was strapped to a marble pillar. The man was standing, his hands tied behind the pillar and his body arced backwards in obvious pain. A few steps in front of him was another curved pillar. Jim could see some sort of pressure wave coming from the column in front and striking the man.

"What's going on here?" Jim demanded, shocked. "What is this?"

Plasus glared at the three. "This is a rostrum, Captain. We have found the Sentinel who was on duty outside your quarters when your men disappeared. We are questioning him," Plasus snapped.

"With this?" Jim said, growing angry. "You're using pain to question him? That's  _torture_ , High Advisor."

"This man is a  _Troglyte_ , Captain. Pain is all they understand," Plasus said with disgust. "He's part of an inferior species and cannot be trusted. The abstract concepts of an intellectual society mean nothing to them, so they do not value the truth. We must use these means to get through to them. He  _claims_  to have seen  _nothing_  during the time your men disappeared. This is the only way to stop his lying."

"There must be other ways,  _Sir_ ," Jim said, trying to hold on to his anger. "And how can you be sure he is lying? We have no idea yet how my men disappeared. There may have been nothing for him to see."

"Preposterous," Plasus spat. "He must have seen something!"

"Then there will be other ways to find out," Jim insisted. He stood at attention. "He will suffer  _no more_ torture."

Plasus looked at him with disgust. "Fine, Captain. They are your men. If you wish to waste and opportunity to find them, so be it." Plasus turned to the Sentinels that had stood frozen and motionless during the whole conversation. "Take him to confinement quarters."

The Sentinels moved to remove the man and led him away.

"You may question him at  _your_  leisure, Captain." Plasus said, "But now we must report to an Emergency Session of the Ardanan High Council. There are matters we must decide upon. And you will need to be there. This time."

Jim bowed slight, signaling for Plasus to precede them. "Lead the way, High Councilor."

Plasus strode out of the room, and Jim, Sulu and Hendorff followed.

"Does the Federation know that the torturing is going on?" Sulu asked Jim, keeping his voice low. "It's forbidden in the charter."

"I can't believe that they do," Jim mumbled back. "But they will now."

_And when, exactly, were they going to bother inviting me to this Emergency meeting?_

Down at the other side of the building there was a crowd outside a large, opulent room. They worked through the crowd and followed Plasus inside. Large doors were closed behind them, shutting out the public.

Jim found himself standing before the Emergency session of Strato's High Council. The nine members of the High Council, all older citizens from the powerful families Jim had memorized on his way here, sat around the impressive 'U' shaped table. A few looked confused, a few concerned, and a few clearly were surprised Jim and his men were there. Jim wondered if this was the first they'd heard about the disappearance of the Officers. Jim wondered if they were just now realizing that there wouldn't be any Welcome dinner after all.

"What is this about, High Advisor?" A younger man asked. He was sitting next to Plasus, who had taken his chair in the middle of the table. Jim recognized him as Remwar, the Second Advisor and Plasus' second in command.

"Two of Captain Kirk's crew have gone missing," Plasus announced. "We are endeavoring to locate them."

"Would this be the work of the Disrupters?" another of the Council asked. Kirk identified him as Alexor.

"We have no proof of this," Plasus replied.

"Could they have gone down to the planet?" That question was from Marinos.

"No, of course not," Plasus answered.

"We do not know that for sure," Jim interrupted. "If they have been taken, and I don't see how that could not be the case at this point, they could be off Stratos by now."

"I tell you Captain, that your men are  _here_ , on Stratos," Plasus said, greatly annoyed. "They can be nowhere else. Without a transport pass,  _no one_  leaves the city." The other Councilors nodded in agreement.

"Councilor," Jim said tightly, "In the past two hours, we have established that the last time my men were seen, they were walking through your park. No one, so far, remembers where they were headed or who they were with. The Sentry that was on duty at the time they left their rooms has been found and questioned. Apparently, he stated to the High Advisor that he saw nothing. My men have been to neither of your Science or Medical departments, and they had made no contact with them. They would not just walk away and  _not_  make contact with me or the ship in this period of time." Jim stopped and took a breath. "They would not disappear willingly, nor without a fight. Since none of us can see any reason why they should be kept prison here, on Stratos, then I can only conclude that the Disrupters have them."

"I agree with the Captain," Second Advisor Remwar said. "I do believe they've been taken. I have had more contact with Starfleet during my travels to promote our arts, and do believe the Captain when he says that they would not just 'wander' away."

The youngest of the group, Remwar had been in Ardanan public service since he was young. Shoritsh and stocky, the man was pure muscle. Jim knew he was the more active of the Councilors, although he knew that Remwar was not liked by all of them. The glares he received from a few of the councilors showed that clearly.

"No one beams down to the planet without us knowing!" Plasus insisted. "None of our transporter platforms have gone unattended. All transporter passes have been accounted for. And our ships are well guarded. Only our own people have made any trips to the surface today, and that number was miniscule."

"Then, I will repeat my  _request_ ," Jim said, struggling to stay polite, but firm, when he wanted to shout. "Lower your defense shield long enough for us to run a deep scan. There's a possibility that we can find my men, or their equipment, quickly. We only need a few minutes. We will, of course, be on the defensive should any intruders wish to take advantage of your shields going down and would--"

"The answer is still  _no_ , Captain." Plasus shook his head. "We  _will_  find your men for you. In our  _own_  way."

"Captain," Sulu said in a whisper, standing just behind him.

Glancing at him, Sulu nodded toward the side of the large and overly ornate room. Vanna, the servant of Plasus' family, came scurrying into the room. Her entrance drew the stares of the high counselors as well. Vanna ran to Plasus' side and whispered something to him. His eyes widened.

"We seem to have been contacted by the Disrupters," Plasus said gravely. "They insist that we all view their demands and are awaiting our attention." Plasus, stony faced, glared at Jim as if he'd timed the interruption. "They insist that the Captain view their demands as well."

Plasus ordered for a viewscreen to activate on a wall to their left.

"Get this all down," Jim whispered to Sulu. "Signal Uhura that she needs to rip this vid apart."

After a moment, a fuzzy picture came up on the wall, bigger than life. A computer voice, clearly disguising a real voice, started to talk. There was only a shadowy outline of a humanoid form, the background clearly in a cave or a mine.

_"We are called the Disrupters," The forceful voice said. "We represent Troglyte society and its people, and will no longer stand for the sub-humanoid treatment that the Stratos Dwellers have subjugated us to. We will no longer toil and slave for them, nor serve them, while they reap all the benefits of our labor. We regret that it has come to this, but Strato's High Counsel has continuously, and with malice, kept our people out of their system of government, giving us no say in the ruling of Ardana. Nor do they allow us our share of its riches and resources. Even the sons and daughters they have taken from us, the best and brightest, to be educated and trained in the higher arts are given such opportunities only in order to serve those born in the clouds. This Plutocracy will now end. _

_We have now taken the reluctant action of including the United Federation of Planets in our demands. Otherwise, the High Council will continue to refuse to listen to us, and our needs, and continue to lie to the Federation about who they, and we, are. We do this only out of desperation, but we are resolved that our demands be met._

_Our first demand is that High Advisor Plasus immediately step down from his seat on the Counsel. We will not negotiate with him. We will agree to negotiate with Second Advisor Remwar. If this is not done, and the Captain of the Starship Enterprise does not confirm this by midnight, we will kill one of the hostages_

_To the Captain of the Enterprise. We regret that we must use these extreme measures, but make no mistake! We will use your men as we must. If any of our people are harmed, tortured or assassinated during this hostage negotiation, then both of your men will be sacrificed. Once the High Council removes Plasus from his station, use the main Stratos communication system to broadcast the fact so that every Stratos screen shows their capitulations to our demand. We will then make further contact. Fail to do so, by midnight, and one of your men_ will _die._

_To prove that we do have your men, their identifiable equipment has been left in the center of the Park. Other than a body, that is the only proof we will provide now or in the future."_

The screen went dark, and the Council erupted in anger among themselves and their aides.

"Sulu? Did you get that?" Jim asked quietly, sparing just a second to glance at him.

"All of it, Captain. It was fed right to the Enterprise. Uhura is going over it now."

"Hendorff," Jim said over his shoulder to the Security crewman, "be ready to go with a Sentinel to the center of the park. I want whatever the Disrupters left recovered by  _us_. Do not let the Stratos Dwellers make off with any of it. Hold your ground, but don't get physical. Contact me if you need to." Jim raised his voice to be heard over the Council's agitated shouts of shock and anger. "High Advisor Plasus. We have both heard the demands of the Disrupters. I request that you have someone lead my bodyguard to the center of the Park in order to find whatever evidence the Disrupters have left."

Plasus, his face flushed with anger, nodded his head and waved at a Sentinel who guarded the door. "You! Take the Captain's man to the park. Find the evidence. Bring it here."

"We can examine it and provide a finding faster than you could," Jim all but snapped.  _I need to be careful when picking my battles, but we need that evidence!_ "We will take it back to the Enterprise for forensic examination."

Plasus glared at Jim, but then Second Advisor Remwar whispered something to Plasus that Jim couldn't hear, and Plasus blinked. Then took a breath. "Very well, you may take it with you. They are your men, and it will be your equipment to identify."

Jim nodded at Hendorff, who jogged toward the Sentinel who waited for him by the door.

"Captain?" Sulu whispered. "Uhura says she's looked at the demand vid and has a preliminary evaluation."

Jim kept his voice low. "Good. Give me a second." Then he turned to the Council. "If you will pardon me, gentlefolk, but I must contact my ship. Then we will have much to discuss."

Jim turned, and followed by Sulu, made his way out of the large room and down the hall to a 'fresher room. He didn't know where another empty room might be, and one could be as bugged with listening devices as another, no matter what the Ardanan's thought about surveillance. Thankfully, there was no one else in there and he could lock the door from inside.

"Sulu, I want you to set your tricorder to set up a 'white nose' field so that any kind of device the Stratos Dwellers might have installed to eavesdrop will just get static."

"Yes, Sir."

At the 'go ahead' nod from Sulu, Jim flipped open his comm. "Uhura? Secure channel."

"Yes, Sir. Secure Channel implemented."

"Tell me what you found out about the demand vid."

"I was monitoring all frequencies between Stratos and the planet," She said, her voice crisp and professional. "The vid was not sent from the planet, so it must have been coming from inside Stratos. The computer-generated voice managed to hide some individual characteristics, but it's a crude program. It shifts the voice, but doesn't encrypt it. The underlying tone and pitch suggest that the speaker is a women. She has a mixed accent, using the vowel stresses of both the Stratos and local Troglyte population, depending on the words she uses. The sounds echoing from the surrounding area do not show that she was actually in a cave or tunnel when the vid was recorded. I believe the cave backdrop to be a fake. It responds to sound as if it's paint and plaster. There are also splices to the voice track."

"What kind of splices?" Jim asked.

"During the parts where she refers to the hostages."

"Any idea what they added to those parts?"

"I believe that the changes were to the references to the number of hostages," She said with a bit of uncertainty in her voice. "I can only say it feels as if they adjusted 'hostage' to 'hostages', and 'man' to 'men'. Singular to plural."

"They didn't intend to take both," Jim said, musing over the information. "Which means they're able to improvise at short notice, both at the abduction and at the editing of the demand vid. But it doesn't tell us who they originally targeted, or how."

"I can keep working on it, Captain," Uhura said.

"Call in your relief, and have them monitor the comms while you go back over it. I want to know what kind of comm traffic increases from Stratos to the cities on the ground. See what picks up, and what slows down. Contact Sulu if you find anything else we need to know."

Jim flipped the comm closed, and started to pace the small space. "We need to backtrack from the abduction, if we can figure out how it was done. There may be something in who they picked to take, and how they got them."

"Do you think they're on Stratos?" Sulu asked.

"At this point, I don't know," Jim admitted. "We'll have to work on the fact they could be here  _or_  down below."

"They're pretty sure that the Disrupters couldn't get them down to the ground. But, then again, they didn't seem to think the Disrupters had them at all."

They were both silent for a minute, until Sulu spoke up once again. "They may trip up on something in the future, Captain. Taking both Spock and McCoy as hostages, when they may have only meant to take one, means that the midnight deadline has been improvised as well. If they'd just taken one, then the midnight deadline would have ended the negotiation. No more hostage to threaten. With two, they feel like they've got one to spare."

"Yeah. Their improvisation will be what trips them up, if they think they've got everything planned out and accounted for. And we must remember, we may already be surrounded by the members of the Disrupters," Jim reminded Sulu. "They take a lot of kids from Troglyte households and train them here. The Sentinels are specially trained from those kids. From what I understand, all the servants are as well. From the Demand vid, I think that there's a lot more of them in the other areas of Stratos society. Any of the service jobs could be filled with Troglytes who sympathize with the Disrupters. So we have to believe that we're being closely watched, at all times."

Jim paced for a moment more, his mind running through all the hostage scenarios he'd studied in the past.

"Sulu, do we know much about how the Stratos Dwellers run their Sentinel division? Do we know if they've dealt with abductions before?"

Sulu checked his tricorder. Jim could see it was still broadcasting white noise, as well as accessing the ship's computer. Sulu, reading the small screen, frowned. "There's not much there, Captain. They're only been Federation members for about six years now. They're pretty private about their government and security forces. I think the Sentinels are the closest they get to an army or police force."

"What about their crime reports, or statistics? In general?"

After checking further, Sulu shook his head. "No real information there, either."

"What about their arts?" Jim asked, and idea forming in his head. "I know about their physical arts, paintings, sculptures and such. Had the tour. But what about literature?"

Sulu checked again, then nodded. "They've got some famous authors throughout the Federation. Mostly poetry and philosophy. We have quite a few on file."

"Dramas? Tragedies? Plays or vids and such?"

Sulu nodded. "Some. Mostly family dramas. Reenactments of old folklore."

"What about murder mysteries?"

Sulu's looked at Jim in surprise. "You mean, like the old 'who-dun-it's and police procedural books and vids?"

"Yeah, like that."

Sulu checked, then shook his head. "No. Doesn't seem they've produced any of that. None that they've exported, anyway."

"Good." Jim flipped his communicator open again. "Kirk to Hendorff. Secure channel."

"Captain," Hendorff answered. Jim could hear from his breathing that he was still on the move. "Almost to the center of the park, sir. There are a few people out and around, but no one near this area. The items were probably left unseen. It's awful dark out here."

"Stay on comm. When you get there, whatever you find, don't touch the items with ungloved hands. Get the Sentinels to provide you with something to carry the items in, and some gloves or other coverings. I don't want you to touch them yourself."

"Understood, Sir."

Both he and Sulu listened to Hendorff as he and the Sentinel arrived at the center of the park.

"There's a large rock here, Captain. I can't see on top, but let me circle around it. Ah, there they are. They're behind the rock, among some trees. Looks like two disassembled communicators and a small, black waist pouch, grouped together. I've not seen it up close before, but I'm pretty sure it's the Doctor's MedKit."

"Okay, get them bagged up and to a transport pod. Get them up to the Enterprise and the Science lab," Jim ordered. "Don't let them out of your sight. I want a full chain of custody on those items."

At Hendorff's acknowledgement, Jim activated the comm again. "Kirk to MedBay. Secure channel."

"M'Benga here, Sir."

"Doctor, I need you to answer a question about the Ardanans."

"Yes, Captain?"

"Do they have fingerprints like Terrans do? And if so, are they unique?"

 

***

 

McCoy couldn't really sleep. He was just too keyed up and in too much pain. But he did manage to keep quit for a while. He figured Spock would appreciate it.

For the last few hours, Spock had quietly paced their cell. He tested the bars, which were twelve poles of metal welded vertical to a door frame, with three welded horizontal. The door hinged in the middle. Locked from the outside, and opened inward. McCoy hadn't seen it opened, so didn't know if the lock worked by an old-fashioned key system, or if there was some kind of electronic lock, like the ones that needed a pin number, password, thumb print or retinal scan. Spock not only checked out the bars, but how deep the frame was bolted into the surrounding rock, the lock mechanism itself and the ceiling lights. He also suspected that Spock was listening to the movement and voices of their jailers. Every once in a while McCoy could hear voices, but he couldn't hear individual words.

But he could tell that they weren't very far underground. Any natural light had left the hallway, and all that was left now were their flickering bulbs and the one in the hall. After several minutes of silence from that area, Spock came over to sit next to McCoy. McCoy pulled himself up to sit against the rock wall. They kept their voices low.

"I do not hear as many guard as there was before. The sun has set," Spock said. "Wrent and eight other men brought us from the transporter pad to this cell. But I believe that there is only Wrent and two men in the front of the enclosure now. There may be many more outside."

"If we get out, can you take the ones up front?" McCoy asked, concerned. With no weapons on them, they'd have to improvise or they'd be dependent on Spock's fighting strength and his Vulcan neck pinch.

"If I am able to come upon them before an alarm could be sent out, the probability is acceptable."

"What about that door lock?" McCoy asked.

"It operates by thumb print. I believe that if I can get one of the guards to bring us more supplies, I can use the neck pinch on him. Then we will be able to use his thumb to open the lock. We should have a better chance to escape with one man already down."

"And where do we go? Do we use their transporter?" McCoy winced. "That thing creeps me out. Honestly, Spock, I'm not sure it's safe."

"We may not have a choice. The device is outside, and about twenty minutes away by motorized vehicle. I was able to memorize the location and our route back to it."

"What's it like outside?"

"We seem to be at the edge of a city that abuts a cliff," Spock replied. "We are in rooms and caves carved into that cliff face. The other buildings seem to be built of rock and the red mud local to the area. There are civilians outside, although most may be in their dwellings now. I still hear some traffic outside. If we could commandeer one, we could move quite some distance fairly quickly."

"Won't they look for us there?"

"I would presume so," Spock said, his voice grim. "And if we should arrive at the transporter, there is the question of where we would go. We are too far from the ship to get a good fix, even if we assume that the defense shields are down. We could only beam onto the prepared pads at the edges of Stratos. I would assume that they have defense systems in place for unplanned transports. Beaming up from the surface, from an unknown transporter, could trigger some very nasty defense responses. Our best course of action is to use find the communications devices they use for contacting Stratos and try to contact the ship. Once we do so, they can beam us up."

"So, we need to look for our communicators or some kind of way to get word out about where we are." McCoy nodded. "Hopefully that will be easier than storming their one transporter and hoping we can aim it correctly. We may not have a lot of time."

"Will you be able to walk?" Spock asked.

"We'll bind up the knee and I'll make it work," McCoy said gruffly. "But, you might need to go without me. I may be too slow."

"I am not leaving you, Doctor."

"You and Jim can always find me later," McCoy protested. "If I slow us down too much, neither one of us will get back."

Spock considered him for a minute. "I may be able to help, if you'd permit it. I could try a mind meld with you, and endeavor to reduce the number of pain receptors connected to your leg."

McCoy was surprised. "I didn't know you could do any pain management with a meld."

"Usually, it is only attempted by a trained Vulcan Healer, Doctor," Spock admitted. "I have no training in that area. If I could affect your mind correctly, for a while you would still feel some pain, but it would not be as debilitating. There is also," Spock warned, "a great danger that you could do yourself much further damage because your body's warning system will not be as effective."

_And do I really want someone tampering with my mind like that?_ McCoy pondered.  _But if it helps me move, then I guess I've got little choice. The guy's already tried to save my life once, I either trust him or I don't._

McCoy nodded. "Okay. Let's get that done and this leg wrapped up. I want to be ready when the chance comes."

McCoy tried to relax as Spock reached out, fingers splayed, to touch his face.

_So, how do I stop thinking about how weird this is? I guess that's a losing battle._

Spock's fingers were too warm, his normal body temperature higher than a human's. As Spock's settled his fingers on his temple, McCoy was reminded of the vibration and sense of power he'd experienced during his out-of-body experience on the trip to Babel. He had felt Spock then, as an unique energy source, and this feeling reminded him of that.

**_Our minds are one..._ **

He felt crowded, as if there was a pressure on his thoughts. Then suddenly he was in a dark room, standing in a spotlight. And Spock was there, walking toward him in a light of his own. McCoy knew it wasn't real, but it seemed like it.

**_"I will endeavour to keep this a simple contact, Doctor." Spock said in the illusion. "I do not need to access any of your conscious thoughts, or anything personal. If you can trust me, this should go quickly._ **

**_"All right," McCoy agreed._ **

**_Spock then stepped forward, into McCoy's space. Into the_** _same **space.** _

**_It was a bit of a shock, and a little disconcerting. He got the feeling he was floating once again, only now, he wasn't alone. He was now_** _They **, and** They **were not concerned.** They **had done this before.** _

**_"We need to access the correct nerve bundle, and block most of the information coming to the brain,"_** _They **thought to themselves. The access to McCoy's nervous system was like a map that** They **could follow.** They **used McCoy's knowledge of the human body to follow the nerves down to the right knee, and like flipping a switch, turned most of them off.** _

**_The part of_** _them **that was McCoy approved of the number of nerves left open, since McCoy would still need to use the leg to move. The new feeling of selective numbness would not affect McCoy's**   **use of the limb. But the adjustment would not last very long, as McCoy's brain would start to miss the signals from the limb, and would attempt to fill in signals of its own. Phantom limb syndrome could be worse than the real, physical pain. One, maybe two hours at the most until the fix would wear off.** _

**_The McCoy part of_** _them **wanted to explore more. The Spock part of** them  **was hurt as well. The finger bones could be seen too, the bruises, the---** _

**_But there was a wall that kept_** _Them **from exploring more of Spock's side of** their  **existence. Spock himself was blocking any deeper contact. The McCoy side tried to fight through it but the Spock side pulled back. There was a rendering feeling as** They  **became Spock and McCoy, separate again.** _

**_Still in that dark room, inside both of their minds, McCoy could feel Spock's surprise that McCoy had been able to push back along the feed as hard as he had._ **

**_"I am fine for now, Doctor."_ **

**_"Shouldn't_** _I **decide that?" McCoy thought stubbornly.** _

**_Like a distant echo, McCoy could feel Spock's slight amusement. "Always the healer, Doctor?"_ **

**_"Could I be anything else?"_ **

**_"No," Spock thought, and McCoy felt a fondness aimed at him that must have slipped through the barrier Spock had kept up. "I don't believe you could. I have admired that about you."_ **

**_It was then that McCoy's surprise echoed around them. "Admire? Me?"_ **

**_"Of course, Doctor. You have a very logical mind when you work. You manage to balance the logical and emotional sides of your nature fairly successfully."_ **

**_McCoy thought about all the times he'd lost it, in front of people and in private. And all the times in the past he'd failed his patients. "I don't feel all that successful."_ **

**_"I have come to believe that most living organisms are never one hundred percent successful at anything they do. You try your best. That is all that can be expected of one."_ **

**_" So do you," McCoy thought in return, the image of Spock hanging from that chain fence, above him. "You jumped after me, to try to save me, when you didn't know for sure the drop wouldn't be fatal. That was going the distance for a crewmate." _ **

**_He could feel Spock pause then. He could feel the hesitation and the decision to say the next few words, even if it was just mental, and between just the two of them._ **

**_"I would have tried to save a crewmate as well, but you... you are different."_ **

**_"Am I? Why?"_ **

**_"Leonard, I do not have so many friends that I could afford to lose one," Spock admitted a bit shyly._ **

**_"I'm a friend? I though you just put up with me for Jim's sake. I know you two are close. You work well together."_ **

**_"You are your own person, Leonard," Spock replied, and McCoy could still feel the hesitance behind it. "I value_** _you **for who** you **are."** _

**_Hearing that meant more to him than McCoy realized._ **

**_"Oh. Okay. Good. I value you too, even if it doesn't sound like it at times. I_** _like **having someone I can argue with, who'll argue back without getting all ruffled and insulted over it. Let's go with being friends, then. I'd like that. Jim will too. Until he realizes it will be a lot easier for us to gang up on him."** _

**_McCoy let the delighted feeling he got at the idea of having someone to team up with, especially when it came to keeping Jim safe and sound against his will, flow out to where Spock could catch it. Jim would hate it. But it would work._ **

**_He felt Spock's amused agreement as he pulled away._ **

Suddenly they were in the cell again, and McCoy almost sighed with relief when he found the pain in his knee had lessened considerably. There was a strange feeling, though, as if he was missing a part of himself.

_Do the mind melds leave you with that? Feeling like you're not all there anymore? I can see why he'd be hesitant to do that very often. Someday, I'll have to ask him about it._ The idea that Spock actually liked him as a friend gave him a boost he didn't realize he needed.

_If he was leaking feelings, then heaven only knows I must have been broadcasting them full strength._

McCoy decided they needed to get back to business. "Let's get it bandaged up tight. As tight as we can while I can still take it."

Spock helped him re-bandage the knee. Once pulled into a standing position, McCoy hobbled near the cell door and leaned against the wall. So far, so good. He could handle what pain there was.

"Are you ready, Doctor?"

"Let's get out of here," McCoy replied.

"We need help! We have an emergency!" Spock yelled through the bars and down the corridor. McCoy hoped they were lucky and there would be just one responder to the summons. One lone guard, a big man dressed like the others who had attacked them on Stratos, lumbered down to the cell.

"What is it?" he asked gruffly from outside of the bars. Close, but not close enough.

"There is something coming out of the wall, over there," Spock pointed to the corner where the mattress lay.

As the man grunted and leaned forward to see the location, Spock reached through the bars and used the Vulcan neck pinch on him. The man stiffened and would have fallen heavily if Spock hadn't grabbed his collar. Spock lowered the man quickly, and by handling him through the bars was able to use the man's thumb print to open the door. As soon as the bolt clicked, Spock pulled the man inside.

"Keep watch," Spock ordered quietly.

McCoy nodded, and propped himself up by the bars, careful not to pull the cell door closed again. He could see further down the tunnel, but neither saw nor heard any alarm or movement. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Spock perform a mind meld on the unconscious guard. After a moment, Spock shook his head and pulled away.

"The front of this complex is too well guarded. Even with a distraction, we wouldn't make it very far."

"Then what do we do?"

"We go deeper down this tunnel. I have a partial, mental map of the tunnels in this area. Many of them connect."

Spock pulled the guard further into the room, and took McCoy's right arm over his shoulder. In a moment, they were out the door and headed away from the entrance and down into the earth.

 

***

 

Captain James T. Kirk stood at the back of the High Council room, and watched the arguing members closely. The nine councilmen and their aides were in a flurry, back and forth as heated, but whispered, conversations took place. The deadline was in one hour, and they were still arguing over what they should do. Jim stood silently and watched carefully, noticing who was talking to who, whose aides were talking to each other, who was whispering conspiratorially and who was arguing with each other. Jim had been back on the ship for most of the last two and a half hours, doing what he could from there. He had been half afraid to leave Stratos, fearing they wouldn't let him return. They certainly weren't happy he was back and watching their debate on the hostage issue.

_I don't care what Admiral Adams told me, my men are_ not  _expendable. And it's clear that the Ardanan High Council is not going to force Plasus from his position as High Advisor. Not in the hour we have left. Our plan needs to work, fast, or either Bones or Spock could die. But I'm not sure what else I can do. We don't know where they are, or where the Disrupters are located. A whole planet is a large place to look in three and a half hours. We can't threaten Stratos, because the Disrupters may be pushing for just that. We have no real target on the planet. We have no one undercover, anywhere, that can feed us any kind of information._

_Unless this new plan works, or they make a mistake Uhura can catch, I could lose both of them. I can't. I won't._

While he was watching the Council argue amongst themselves, Sulu and Hendorff were on their tricorders, moving about the room. They had been on their tricorders since their beam down from the ship, doing exactly what Jim had ordered them to do.

They were sweeping for fingerprints.

After leaving Ardana for the Enterprise, Jim had called an emergency session with the department heads, and their replacements, while he had contacted the Starfleet Headquarters to update their situation. During that time, in which Jim was basically ordered to stay out of it, let the Ardanan's handle the situation, and that his men were considered expendable, Scotty had confirmed that the comms were the ones assigned to McCoy and Spock. He also confirmed that the power source of the devices had been removed. Not destroyed, or mangled, or crushed, but carefully and neatly removed by someone who either had seen the technology before, or who wanted to reverse engineer the design. So someone with training in such systems had opened them. Which pointed toward those who lived or worked on Stratos. But he had also been quick to point out that no reverse engineering of the comms would lead to anyone being able to eaves drop on Enterprise's communication system. That was handled by the ship's system, and not the comms themselves.

M'Benga had confirmed the black pouch was McCoy's, still with all the equipment McCoy had check it out with. Including the tiny vials of the most likely medicines he might need in an emergency. And, even more importantly, M'Benga had confirmed that from what information he could find, and data he could extrapolate, Ardanan's did have fingerprints and the odds were greatly in favor of them being as unique as they were in humans.

Even better news was that McCoy's pouch and the comms they had found were covered in fingerprints. All DNA traces had been burned away by some sort of radiation beam, such as that used to sterilize medical areas, but that had not erased the natural secretions of sweat from the epidermal ridges on their finger pads that most humanoid species had.

Chekov had done a thorough search of the Ardanan databases on the ship and through Memory Prime, and never found any information that the Ardanan's knew about finger prints or had ever used the archaic science to solve cases or identify suspects.

Which meant, if any of the people who handled the equipment taken from the two officers were also near the Council members, they had a chance of finding them.

_Someone here has been spying on the Council, and us. They knew we were coming, and had enough time to make plans and record the demand vid. Maybe more than a few people. If the Stratos Dwellers recruit all their service industry, including their maintenance and science crews, from the surface, then the Disrupters have had plenty of chances to plant their people here. And it also shows that Plasus and the Council are wrong. You can't see the majority of your population as 'inferior' and 'inherently slow' and then trust them to run your world. I have a feeling that the Stratos Dwellers may believe the tale of the Troglytes being inferior, but the Federation won't once they get a good look at what's been going on here._

As the Council room buzzed with people like the center of a bee hive, no one seemed to notice Hendorff and Sulu making the rounds of the room. Nor did they notice when Hendorff disappeared into a side room, where various servants came and went with drinks and food for the Council members. Tonight, there were more drinks being passed around than food, which meant plenty of artistically shaped, clear and sleek glasses being carried to and from the serving area.

It only took a few minutes before Hendorff was back at the service door, catching Jim's eye and nodding.

_Bingo!_

Jim tried to keep his movements unhurried as he walked over to Hendorff, who was now standing outside the door, a plastic bag with an empty glass in it.

"It was just about to be cleaned, Captain. The server had just been picking up glasses from the Council table," Hendorff said in and excited, but low, voice. "There are two sets of fingerprints on it. I identified the server who picked up the used glass. The second set matches some of the fingerprints on all three items from the hostages."

_It's a Councilman. All along, it's been a Councilman. No wonder they've been in chaos, stonewalling me. They were never meant to make the deadline, were they?_

"Protect that glass, Lieutenant," Jim said, feeling hope for the first time in hours. "We're going to be addressing the Council."

They had thirty-five minutes left before the deadline. He caught Sulu's eye, who was on the other side of the room, and nodded toward the Council table, where the arguing and debating members were still milling around. Sulu looked at the table and nodded back. Carefully, staying as far back behind the crowded area as he could, Sulu trained his tricorder on the table itself. It was a dark, heavy marble-like material, polished to a sheen and embedded with data screens and keyboards. The Council had been in session for hours over what Plasus would do about the demand. It was now covered in finger prints.

Behind one of the Councilmen, who was seated in his chair and discussing something with his neighbor in animated whispers, Sulu stopped and looked at Jim with a small smile.

_It's him._

He nodded to Sulu to continue. If there was one, there could be more.

Sulu finished his scanning, then came around the table to join Jim and Hendorff. Jim took Sulu's tricorder. It had found the same set of prints Hendorff had found on the glass.

"I just found the one match, Captain," Sulu said. "But there could still be more. We just haven't come upon them yet."

"One is all we need to start," Jim said with a slight smile. The part of his brain that had been hounding him to do something now had something to work with. "Especially this one. Prepare yourself gentlemen, we are about to beard the lion in his den."

Hendorff looked confused, but Sulu smiled with understanding. "Yes, sir!"

 

***

 

McCoy didn't know how long they'd been walking, just that he didn't know how long he could continue to do so even with Spock's help. The tunnels grew steep and dark in some areas, but were clearly used. Sand had been put down in some areas to make the path smooth. McCoy noticed that Spock steered away from those tunnels, and was choosing the rough paths. It made sense that they'd want to avoid the more used areas. The lights were few, and sometimes very far between, but seemed to be color coded in a way McCoy couldn't catch but seemed to keep Spock on track to whatever destination he'd chosen. And the tunnels were wide enough that he didn't feel claustrophobic.

_Too much like the ship at times,_ McCoy thought to himself.  _Tunnels in cliffs, tunnels underground, tunnels in big hunks of metal in space. Not much difference anymore. I've become a mole._

He'd wanted to ask where they were going, but he didn't have the breath for it. And he didn't want to slow down if they didn't have to. McCoy could feel the pain grow worse and worse as time wore on. That, added to his fatigue, hunger and growing dehydration, made him afraid if he stopped moving he'd never get started again.

_At least Vulcans are a lot stronger than humans. I know he can help me hobble for quite a while longer. I'm just not sure how long I can stay upright. Especially if I don't get something to drink soon._

Finally, Spock seemed satisfied as he came upon a wooden door. Opening it, he steered them both inside. It was pitch black after Spock shut the door behind them. After a moment of searching, Spock found a light globe by the door that lit the small room.

"We should be able to remain here, undiscovered, for a short time," Spock said as he maneuvered McCoy around some selves and to the back of the room.

"Is there any water?"

Spock helped McCoy sit back against a wall. "There may be. I will check."

"Where are we?" McCoy asked as Spock went to check the shelves. There were several on the walls, and three long, standing shelves between him and the door.

"As small storage room, as you can see. We are just outside the current working zenite mines."

"And how do we get to the surface from here?"

"I am not sure." Spock came back with a labeled, clear jug of what looked like water. He looked unsure as he opened the top and sniffed it. "The marking say it is water, Doctor. I cannot detect anything of a chemical nature in it. We will be taking a chance."

McCoy waved it over impatiently. "Hand it here. I'll give it a shot."

Spock looked as if here were debating the issue, then took a sip himself before handing it over. "It tastes to be uncontaminated."

_And if he'd have let me, I could have told him that,_ McCoy thought with annoyance. But Spock was right, and McCoy took a large gulp after a testing sip. His head felt thick and fuzzy, and the water helped a bit.

"If you don't know where we're going, then what do we do?" McCoy asked, handing the bottle back to Spock. "Don't tell me you took me all the way here without a plan."

"I have not heard any sounds of pursuit behind us, but they would have discovered our escape by now," Spock said as he got up and started looking through some boxes. "The guard I subdued did not know this tunnel system very well, but he did know of this storage room. We may be able to rest here for a bit l-longer, but we should assume that we are being hunted. If we can disguise ourselves, we may be able to leave from of the entrance of the current mine, which connects to this older one. Here."

Spock pulled a large plastic box from a side shelf and brought it over to McCoy. "There should be extra clothing in here for the miners."

They both dug through the box, pulling out various pairs of pants, shirts and hair coverings. They wouldn't be able to fit anything over their uniforms, so shed them quickly and put on the outfits. Spock carefully folded up their Starfleet uniforms and put them under the rest of the clothing, and put the box back on the shelf. There were a few neck scarfs they used to tie around their heads, under the hats. While neither of them had the long hair of the other Troglytes they'd seen, at least they'd blend in a lot better from a distance. McCoy worried about their shoes, but Spock took a few handfuls of sand and rubbed the shine off of his and McCoy's shoes.

"This will h-have to do," Spock said. He looked a bit embarrassed about the stutter.

_Twice in one day. God, don't tell me he's about to fold on me. We're further into the trap than out of it, thanks to him._

"We had best go, Doctor, if you're done l-lounging," Spock said with a touch of frustration.

"I can move," McCoy said shortly, struggling to haul himself up with his stiff, wrapped knee. Spock grabbed his arm and hauled him up. McCoy fought not to shake his arm off.

It was all McCoy could do to let Spock once again hold him up as they left the storage room. He hated having to depend on Spock like that.

But if he was going to make it back to Jim, he didn't see that he had any choice.

 

***

"Council Folk! I must have your attention. Now!"

Jim's shout got that attention, and not a just a few glaring stares along with some looks of shock at his rudeness. Jim had no problem returning the glares with calm resolution. He was going to run the show now.

"Captain, you have no place here! This is Ardanan business," Plasus snapped. "We are still deciding--"

"I  _know_  what you are deciding, High Advisor, but we have come across important information that you should know." Jim said with forced patience, aware that the clock was ticking down to their deadline. "Using the technology available to us, we have discovered someone who has been in contact with the Disrupters, and in fact, may be one of their leaders."

Plasus' eyes widened in shock. "Who are you accusing, Captain? Where are they?"

"They are here," Jim said. "They are on your own High Council."

Jim had everyone's complete attention, and on most of those faces he saw surprise, shock and curiosity. Except for one, who's face showed a touch of panic.

" _Our_ Council?" Plasus said, outraged. "Never!"

"Then I think you'd better talk to Second Advisor Remwar," Jim said, his attention totally on the man who sat next to Plasus. Remwar only grit his jaw and stared back. "Because he, among others, handled the equipment taken from my crewmen."

Plasus' jaw dropped, his expression confused. "You're mad," he said, looking from Jim back to Remwar. "I have known Remwar all of his life!"

"I can prove this, to you, and to the Council of the United Federation of Planets." Jim walked up the center of the table, until he was standing in front of Remwar, their eyes locked. Jim's voice was rough, and angry in a deadly, quiet way. "It may be old technology for us, but it's time tested and reliable. We know you're involved, and I can tell you this, right now, Second Advisor..." Jim placed both of his hands on the table in front of Remwar, who had grown pale. Jim leaned over the table, until he was sure that his face was the only thing Remwar could see. His anger and determination clear and unequivocal. "The Federation, finding the Ardanan ruling party infiltrated by the Disrupters, will now consider this a successful coup d'etat, and consider Ardana's Federation Membership null and void. All trade agreements will be rescinded. All travel within Federation space by your people restricted. Assets frozen and confiscated. We will no longer be required by treaty or membership agreements to leave the recovery of our men to the Ardanan Government."

Jim allowed himself a smile. His best evil, calculating, vicious smile. His eyes bored into Remwar's. "And I have a  _Starship_ at my command, Sir. If you think the rosturm is bad, you're in for a very big surprise. Because we have ways to get information, the worst of the  _worst_  that we've seen over centuries across a  _very_  large galaxy. Ways that would make your hair turn white with fear just at the mention of it, and make every moment of the rest of your life a living, screaming  _hell_. One in which will leave you begging for death, as a mercy, which we will  _not_  grant. And I will not, for one second, have any problem administering such questioning personally, for as long as it takes, if  _either_  of my men are hurt, in  _any_  way. Because they are both very,  _very_  important to me. And I  _will_  have them back, no matter what it costs either of us."

Jim, not looking away from Remwar's shocked eyes, held up a hand to Plasus, who had begun to sputter.

_Plasus may know we don't torture, but Remwar apparently doesn't. I swear, that if Plasus says one word to contradict me, I'll knock him cold. That would only help to scare Remwar even more._

Plasus remained silent

He saw Remwar flinch, could see that the man believed every word he said. Jim, only inches from Remwar's face, did not blink. But Remwar did after a very long moment, as Jim let him read every bit of anger and determination in his face. The man was starting to sweat with fear.

There was no sound in the room. No one moved. Jim and Remwar could have been the only ones in the room.

Remwar swallowed thickly.

Jim didn't even twitch.

"You have twenty minutes to contact your people, and return mine," Jim said softly, the moment he saw the man's resolve fold in the depths of his eyes. "Twenty minutes to save your soul and your sanity, Second Advisor. Tell us what you need to do so, and use those minutes  _very_  well."

"Yes," Remwar said shakily, blinking frantically, "I will! I... I need to open a communications line to the surface."

"Do it."

Jim still did not move, nor remove his glare from Remwar. His hands shaking, Remwar tapped some buttons on the display on the table in front of him. Behind him, Jim heard Sulu talking quietly to Uhura. Now was the time for her to be  _very_  good at her job. This was one conversation link they had to trace.

After a few endless seconds, Remwar spoke in a wavering voice to the man who answered. "Call it off! Call it all off! Let the hostages go! Do  _not_  harm them!"

Jim heard the answer as soon as Remwar did.

"We don't have them anymore! We don't know who does."

Remwar look back up into Jim's eyes. He looked as if he were about to faint.

"Then, you will help us find them," Jim said quietly.

Remwar nodded.

Jim stood and stepped back, signally to Hendorff without taking his eyes off of the Second Advisor. "Call in more security."

"Yes, Sir," Hendorff said, pulling out his comm.

Jim only glanced at Plasus, who looked almost as shell shocked as Remwar. "You will let us take over the recovery mission, High Advisor. And we will work together to find my people."

Jim could see that Plasus had just started to realize how serious this was for him. Anyone he knew, anyone around him, could be plotting against him and the rule of the Ardanan High Council. His only ally, for only as long as they cared to be, was the Federation and the treaties already in place. Plasus nodded. His voice was steady, but Jim could hear the fear in it. "You will have our full co-operation, Captain. You have my word."

"I need  _Carte Blanche_ , High Advisor. Your authority behind my orders. We have a rescue to arrange."

_And maybe a house to help clean, if the Troglytes have legitimate grievances. Plasus is not so blind as to not see that he's got a long fight ahead of him with the Federation if his government has been lying to them. Whatever he can do to contain this situation, he'll do. Even if he has to swallow his own pride to do it._

It only took a moment for Plasus to agree. The rest of the Council, shocked and uncertain, remained quiet.

Jim started giving orders to lower the city's defense shield, while putting the Enterprise on alert for any attack from the Disrupters, and to let the Enterprise crew beam down at will. Sentinels were called in to take Remwar to a confining room. Plasus went into action, making sure that the Captain of the Enterprise got what he wanted, as quickly as possible. Jim left him to it.

Sulu, standing close to Jim, leaned in and kept his voice very low. "That was a bluff, Captain? I mean, the part about the sanctions and stuff, when the UFP hears about all this?"

"If  _you_  have to ask, Lieutenant, then there's no way  _they_  would know if it was a bluff or not." Jim glanced sideways at Sulu. "Someone once said, ' _we can't change the cards we're dealt, just how we play the game'_. But sometimes, you  _can_  give yourself more cards, if the other players don't have the stomach to call you on it."

"You knew Remwar would fold like that?"

"I suspected he would," Jim admitted, giving Sulu a very tiny smile. "Hikaru, you and I have been to war, more than once. The High Council and the Disrupters have apparently been trading threats for years. I don't know how far back this goes, but I think this generation has yet to do real battle with each other. They talk tough, but they've never actually looked death in the face. Not like we have."

"And if the Council finds out later that what you said, about the torture, isn't true?"

"Plasus already knows it's not." Jim sighed. "As for the rest, if it saves McCoy and Spock, I don't care what the Council or the Federation think about the threat. What's important is that Remwar believed me. If he, if all of them, think me insane, all the better."

Sulu thought about it for a moment, then nodded.

_Because an insane, pissed off and rogue Captain with a Starship circling overhead beats any sort of Federation response after the fact, hands down. So, the more on the edge they think I am the better._

_And they wouldn't be too far wrong._

 

***

 

McCoy didn't know how much longer he could keep on his feet. Not that he was doing much of the work of walking. Not anymore. Spock still took most of his weight. The tunnels had turned even rougher, the footing treacherous in the dark, and it had slowed them down quite a bit. McCoy didn't have any idea where they were, or how long they'd been on the move. All that kept him going was anger about the situation they were in.

Finally, Spock paused. "I h-hear voices up ahead. I-I believe we've come upon one of their current mines. I will need to check."

"Fine. Just get it done." McCoy snapped. It was almost a relief when Spock led him to the nearest tunnel wall, and left him propped up against it. Taking all his weight off the leg took some of the pain way, but his head still felt thick and fuzzy. He felt like he was missing something important, and that just angered him more.

Spock moved toward the sounds, and disappeared around a bend. It took all McCoy's concentration to try to stay upright. A few moments later Spock was back.

"This tunnel connects to a major mine tunnel up a-ahead. There are a few guards," Spock whispered as he'd come back to McCoy. "There are several mining vehicles here. If we can s-steal one, we can drive out of the entrance, which may be a mile or more above us."

"Well, then let's get going," McCoy said, hobbling forward. With Spock's help, they got to the entrance and McCoy saw a lot of large containers, various types of large mining equipment as well as a motorized vehicle on wheels not far away. The vehicle was open in the back, where there were canisters of what McCoy could only guess was a load of zenite. The front of the cart was covered, and looked like the front of an old-fashioned truck McCoy recognized from some ancient family pictures. It looked like the type of antique Jim was fond of, and this one was obviously still used. McCoy could see steering controls more like a motorcycle than a car on the other side.

"I will slip into the driver's seat, and a-attempt to start it," Spock whispered. "Can you make it to the p-passenger door?"

"'Course I can," McCoy hissed back.

_What the hell is wrong with him anyway? He never stutters._

"Then w-we must move now."

They both sprang forward, Spock quickly moving around the front of the vehicle to the driver's side and McCoy hobbled to the passenger side. Spock was trying to start the engine as McCoy fought to slide into the seat next to him, his stiff leg making it hard to get completely into the vehicle. By the time he got the door shut, Spock was angrily twisting some of the controls.

"There is n-no fuel," Spock said tightly.

And before McCoy could fire back a thoroughly biting curse, four Troglytes, armed with what looked like projectile devices, were aiming at them through the open windows.

_A trap! Damn it all to hell!_ McCoy thought with anger as he followed Spock's lead and held up his empty hands.  _Could this get more screwed up?_

From behind a container, Wrent hobbled toward them. "Take them now," Wrent ordered his men. "We must move quickly."

They were dragged from the vehicle and their wrists tied, and then taken down to another room, not too far away from the tunnel they'd just left. McCoy decided he was going to make them work to move him, and made two of his captors drag him to the room. They then sat him down on the dirt floor next to Spock and bound his ankles. They had done the same to Spock, who glared at the Troglytes with anger. This time, McCoy's leg was screaming at him like a banshee in his head. He could barely hear thought it. He'd known that their escape would further damage the joint, and that the pain would come back to haunt him.

_We should have been out of here by now, damn it! Blasted Vulcan and his mental maps. If he didn't know where the hell he was going, then we should have stayed put! How the hell is Jim supposed to find us down in this mine?_

He knew the pain was fueling his anger, and he'd been working to keep his mouth shut. But he wanted nothing more at the moment than to come down on the Vulcan for his stupidity.

Wrent said a few quiet words to his men, and they left, leaving only the old man with Spock and McCoy. Wrent sat on a jutting rock, breathing deeply. His cannula still in place, he played with some settings at the device at his waist.

_Probably upping the oxygen. Damned fool. If he thinks keeping us here will keep Jim off his ass, he's mistaken._

"Gentlemen, I am glad we were able to find you. Things... have changed."

"Doesn't look like it from here," McCoy spat. "You're just as much in for a Federation pounding as before."

"The Doctor, f-for once, is correct," Spock stammered with anger. "The Federation will not tolerate our a-abduction."

Wrent shook his head. "This time, I am helping you, not them."

"Who the hell is 'them'?' McCoy asked.

"The Disrupters, of course," Wrent said sadly. "As you gentlemen know, the plan was to kidnap the Doctor to get the Federation's Attention. The Disrupters were to announce your abduction at the dinner last night, with the demand that the Federation send a diplomate to negotiate a new agreement between the Troglytes and the Stratos Dwellers. Unfortunately, it seems that I was misled."

"H-how?" Spock asked.

"I found out, just as you were escaping, that the Disrupters planned to kill one of you if the Federation didn't make High Advisor Plasus step down from the Council." Wrent shook his head. "I could not let them do that. I know the Federation will never listen to us if either of you were to be harmed. But Vanna and her followers have other ideas. If you had not escaped..." Wrent sighed. "Let us just say that it was fortunate for all three of us that you did so. I was able to delay letting the Disrupters know you were gone. I made them believe you escaped out the front and are now making your way to the transporter, to beam back aboard your ship. They are searching for you along that route. The men that have helped recapture you in the tunnel are the few I can now trust. And we can make no move to use my transporter, or they will find you."

"So, we're just supposed to believe you?" McCoy huffed. "I don't think so."

"W-what do you want the F-Federation to help you n-negotiate with the Stratos Dwellers," Spock sputtered.

_Damn it. He keeps that stutter up and I'm going to give him to the Disrupters myself. He's losing it._

"We need the Federation to understand that we will no longer be slaves to the Stratos Dwellers," Wrent said with conviction. "For too many years we've toiled for them. Raised their food, mined their minerals, and had our smartest children taken to be raised in indoctrinated as 'retainers' to work as their slaves. We will do this no more. If the Stratos Dwellers don't listen to us, we will cut them off. We will starve them, and take them over from the inside. We will sabotage their defence systems, so they may not strike back at us like they did a century ago." Wrent seemed to fall in on himself then, and rubbed tiredly at his face. "I was not aware that the majority of our force was so violence minded. Otherwise, I would not have helped, which is why I've been kept in the dark about their real plans. It will do us no good to throw away what some of our people have achieved, if we destroy each other in the end. That is why we need the Federation to step in. With Federation membership, the High Council has someone else they must account to now."

"You s-said... s-said," Spock stopped and almost growled as he began again, plainly trying to control his speech. "...said that the S-Stratos Dwellers were a-also imprisoned."

_This is just too damned weird, even for him. Pretty soon, he won't be able to talk at all._

Wrent nodded. "They are in an enclosed society, gentlemen. Their growth rate must be strictly regulated, as they have nowhere else to go but off-world in the Federation. Unbeknownst to their general populace, the young are given birth control without their consent. Birthrates are artificially low, as the Doctor would have discovered if they'd let him see the Stratos' medical facilities. When 'unapproved' or accidental pregnancies happen, the mothers mysteriously lose their babies. It has become the norm to believe that Stratos women are... 'delicate' and such things happen. But they're happening on purpose gentlemen, just like those of us who are elderly will suddenly die peacefully in our sleep. It happens with aid from those who wish them gone to make room for the young. Or the more deserving."

Wrent shook his head. "Now, only the more powerful houses have elderly. And now, many families find that they can't conceive. While those in power have many children." He coughed. "And down here, those of us with the lung disease can't work. We can't dig, and we can't farm. If we have some other skill, then we can provide for ourselves and not be a burden on our children. At least we have  _that_. But on Stratos, if you are not strongly related to the ruling council, you will not live long enough to be my age."

"Then, maybe, you all should get up there and knock them on their ass," McCoy muttered, appalled at the thought of such control being forced on anyone.

"And lose the advances that belong to us all?" Wrent asked. "There are many now who threaten to do just that. Our young men are so angry now. So full of violence. And I do not want that for my people either."

"H-how d-did the Stratos Dwellers retaliate?" Spock ground out. "B-before?"

"A couple of centuries ago, before the first contact with outsiders, there was a rebellion. The Stratos Dwellers played the winning hand by moving Stratos and using their anti-gravitational abilities to destroy a whole city."

"How?" McCoy asked in surprise.

"They can not only defy gravity, they can increase it. They moved the city over the ground in question, and sent out ever increasing waves of gravity, like a cascade of bombs." Wrent grew even more weary looking as he spoke. "So much of the Troglytes culture and lives are lived underground, and that force was enough to collapse every tunnel, every house, and crush the population in a wide area. A whole city, crushed out of existence. Hundreds of thousands dead and buried. As if they never existed."

_Damn bastards!_ McCoy thought in shock.  _How the hell did they get away with that? What kind of people do that?_

"W-w-w..." Spock sputtered, grinding his teeth when he couldn't get the word out.

"What the  _hell's_  wrong with you?" McCoy finally snapped at Spock in frustration. "Can't you get it together?"

"I. Do. N-not. Know!" Spock yelled angrily, reaching over to viciously grab McCoy around the throat.

The attack took him off guard, and McCoy, his own wrists shackled, grabbed frantically at Spock's. The Vulcan was furious, and for half a second McCoy thought Spock would just snap his neck. Instead, Spock throttled him slowly. McCoy could feel Spock's fingers tighten like rods of steel as he started to thrash desperately to try to dislodge the Vulcan's grip.

_Bastard's finally going to kill me!_

McCoy tried to bring his knees up, forgetting that one was bound too tightly to bend and his ankles were lashed together. He kicked ineffectually at Spock's torso as Spock grip slowly tightened. As the oxygen level in his brain started to fall, something flashed through McCoy's mind and fought the pain and fear to be heard.

**_They were hanging once again from the deck on Stratos, death 9 kilometers below them._ **

**_McCoy let go of Spock's forearm, but Spock's grip on McCoy's arm only tightened. The Vulcan, clearly determined, glared down at him._ **

**_"Let me go!" McCoy ordered._ **

**_He didn't know if Spock could hear him. He couldn't even hear himself. Spock only gritted his teeth and tried to heave McCoy further up._ **

The scene played out again in McCoy's head. It meant something important.

_Spock had tried to save me! He wouldn't kill me now! What are we doing?_

He could hear his own gasping of breath, trying to fill lungs that had been cut off. And the thought of Wrent's oxygen feed popped into his mind.

_This isn't **us**! We're breathing something toxic! It's affecting us! _

McCoy realized he was touching Spock's exposed wrists, and Spock had McCoy's bare throat in his hands. McCoy tried to reach out to Spock's mind, as Spock had done in the meld they'd had just hours before.

_SPOCK! STOP! SOMETHING'S WRONG WITH US! STOP!_

And behind the words he tried to shove the scene of Spock trying to save him, and the thought of a toxic gas, back at Spock through whatever connection he could find or make between them.

He wasn't sure how long it took, but he finally found himself dragging in great gulps of air. Spock had stopped choking him.

Chest heaving, throat bruised and aching, he looked up at Spock, who looked back in surprise and shock.

"L-leonard?" Spock asked carefully.

"'m okay," McCoy rasped, barely able to talk.  _More bruises. I may even beat Jim's record._ He noticed Wrent had stood and moved away from them.

"And here, I'd hoped you were more civilized, and could help us," Wrent said, his expression of shocked disappointment making him look even older. Fear and dread filled his eyes. "We are  _all_ doomed now, I fear."

"Nev... never mind that," McCoy said, waving Wrent closer. "Your... oxygen. Give it to... Spock. He needs it."

Wrent looked at him as if he'd gone mad.

_I guess I have, at that. Can't say that I like it much._

He yelled then, as much as his horse voice would allow. "We're sick! We need that oxygen to think! Give it to him and we can help, damn it! Move!"

Looking as if he were humoring a fool, Wrent pulled the cannula from his face and unhooked the small device from his belt. Haltingly, he limped over to Spock, who took them greedily, quickly setting up the oxygen to flow into his own nostrils.

Spock closed his eyes and leaned back, breathing deeply.

_Okay, now for a time out,_ McCoy closed his own eyes, and tried to keep down the anger that fought with the pain of his body for control of his mind and emotions. For once, he was glad of the bad knee and the bruises. They would keep him too tired to get worked up. He hoped. He knew he could be one mean bastard when he wanted to be, and right now? Oh, how he  _wanted_  to let it all out good and proper.

_No use mouthing off now. Not when Spock can think faster than I can, and can figure out what the hell we do next. Plus, he can carry me if he god damned has to. Although I may never live_ that  _down._

_But don't let the bastard say I never gave him anything._

 

***

 

Jim stood in front of the cell that Remwar was in. Four hours had passed since the deadline. Uhura had been able to trace the comm Remwar had made to his men on the surface. Plasus, had ordered Sentinels to beam down to the location, and had agreed that some of the Enterprises' Security men could accompany them. It was obvious that Plasus knew that he could not trust his own men, and in a twist of circumstances now considered the Federation's help as an asset. At least, he didn't seem to feel that the UFP was out to remove him from office, unlike the Disrupters.

The raid on the Disrupters comm location had turned up an illegal transporter and several Disrupter members, who had fought hard but had ended up in custody anyway. Their information, still incoming as they were questioned by the Sentinels and monitored by Starfleet personnel, had led them to a cave that where Spock and McCoy had been kept. There were traces of McCoy's and Spock's blood on a mattress found inside the cell. But it had not led to the men themselves. As the word had spread through the Disrupter ranks, Uhura had been able to navigate the spider-web of frantic communication between them and catch a link back to Stratos.

They had found that comm abandoned in a refuse vent in the underground maintenance system under Stratos. There was no way to trace its origin, and it not only had been wiped of DNA, but fingerprints as well.

Someone had caught on, very quickly.

_Probably someone who was there when they saw me confront the Council and reveal how we discovered Remwar. We still have fingerprints on Bone's and Spock's equipment that we haven't identified yet, so we'll have to assume the opposition will be more careful. The only people I can trust here are my own men._

_This group we captured doesn't seem to know where Spock and McCoy are. They're too angry themselves at the loss of their prisoners for it to be faked. Either they've been kept in the dark, so they can't tell us anything, or there's another faction at work that we haven't met yet. There may be another demand coming, soon. I can only hope so, because that would mean McCoy and Spock would still be considered valuable enough to be kept alive._

_Unless they've escaped on their own. If they did, then where could they be?_

Jim had debated on his next step. Plasus was still pushing on using the rostrum on all of their captives, including Remwar. Jim had convinced not only Remwar that he was vengeance motivated and willing to torture, but the council and the other prisoners as well. Plasus had agreed not to contradict him on that in front of the prisoners. But it had been hard for Plasus to believe that Jim wouldn't really allow Plasus to tortue them himself.

_Although, at times, it's tempting. I'm can't lie to myself and say it's not. But torture doesn't lead to the truth, it only leads to people saying whatever they can say to make it stop. And it warps the torturer. I may_  feel  _warped at times, but I'm not that far gone. Hopefully, I never will be._

He studied Remwar through the bars. The man had broken, but had gotten his second wind once he realized that he was not headed straight for the rostrum. He looked calmer now, more in control. Remwar only stared back at Jim and stayed silent as he sat at the small table inside the cell. Jim, with his phaser on his hip, walked up to the bars.

_He obviously didn't study the UFP or Starfleet very well as he traveled around, if he thought I'd feel free to torture him, or that I'd let Plasus do so. Which means there are plenty of other areas I can bluff about. If he thinks the UFP will order Starfleet to interfere and do anything but mediate between the factions, I can use that to get him to co-operate._

"Time we had a private talk," Jim stated.

"I will not give you any information," Remwar said, defiantly.

Jim touched the control and opened the cell doors. "Oh, I don't know about that." He walked in and sat down on the opposite side of the small table. Remwar flinched. Jim continued. "I think you know that your plans have all failed. We will find my men and they will be able to identify their abductors. And Plasus has vowed he will never step down as High Advisor. The High Council will probably order a closer vetting of all the Troglytes in the City and all the people in power. Stratos Dwellers are no longer immune from suspicion because they were born here. And the High Council, what's left of them, will ask for the Federation's help in doing so because they know they can no longer trust those around them. How long do you think you can hide from us?"

"I... We will find a way to prevail, Captain."

Remwar looked uncertain.

" _We_. From what I'm learning about the real societies of Ardana, that's surprising. You, a Stratos dweller, leading a group of those your society considers inferior? What did you hope to accomplish by taking my men?"

"Change, Captain. What we do to the Troglytes is wrong," Remwar said.

"Then why not contact the Federation, and let them know what was really going on?"

The cell bars swished open again, and Remwar stiffened, keeping his eyes on the table.

Jim looked around to see Vanna entering the cell, she had a tray with a jug, a small bowl, and a cup on it.

"It's his refreshment hour," Vanna said, and when both men ignored her she moved to place the tray on the table.

"Give us more names, and we can make a deal," Jim told Remwar.

In a quick move, Vanna reached down and grabbed Jim's phaser. Jim saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and grabbed at her, but he was too slow.

"No more names!" She shouted, backing away from them and waving the phaser back and forth between them.

"Vanna! No!" Remwar shouted.

But Vanna aimed at Remwar and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. Vanna Froze.

"So, now we have the woman who produced the demand vid," Jim said walking slowly toward her. She tried the phaser on him.

"It won't work," Jim told her. "It's been disabled."

"No!" Vanna screamed and threw the phaser at him, turning to run out of the cell doors. But there were already two Sentinels outside, with Lieutenant Hendorff. The Sentinels raced in and grabbed her. She didn't bother to fight them, only glared her hatred at Jim and Remwar.

"And I wouldn't touch any of that food or drink," Jim said to Remwar, who looked stunned. "She probably poisoned it as her first plan. She just found the phaser too tempting."

"I will  _not_  tell you  _anything_ ," she hissed at Jim.

"You won't have to," Jim told her with a slight smile. "We discovered you by your finger prints on our crewman's equipment, as well as Remwar's and several others. Since Plasus permitted us to scan his dwelling for any matching prints, it wasn't hard for us to discover who had left them all over Plasus' household once we found yours. Only one of his retainers had the access you had to his home, his offices, his computer..."

Jim shook his head. "Once you realized what we were looking for, you removed your prints from the comm you used to talk to your men on the surface. They'd panicked and called you, and you knew that with the Strato's Security shields down, we might have been able to track the comm. But you could never have removed all the fingerprints you've ever left. We've had you bugged for hours."

Jim saw her eyes widen. "Our tracking devices are very, very small." He reached up, into the mass of curls in her hair and pulled out what looked to be a small, white bead. "We know who you've been in contact with. We know where they're hiding, and how many are on the move. We also know that you are looking for our men as well. What I want to know, is  _where_  you think they are, and  _who_  has them."

"I will not tell you anything," Vanna hissed, her eyes angry. "And I know you will not force me."

"No, you're right," Jim admitted. "But we  _can_  trade. How about you trade what you know of my men, and I make sure that the Federation sends a mediator to Ardana to officially take up your cause? Plasus may not agree to it, but he won't have much choice if I can present your case straight to the UFP. Ardana's membership will be at stake. And I can assure you," Jim dropped his voice, "Your voice can be heard more clearly if it's not silenced by the death of my men. Or yours."

Vanna hesitated, and Jim could almost see the internal war she was having over her need for vengeance over the ugly treatment of her people and her hope for their future. After a long moment, she took a deep breath, her gaze never wavering. She had decided.

"I will trust you, Captain Kirk. For my people's future."

"Then let's seal the deal, and bring my men home."

 

***

 

McCoy sat up straight, balancing himself carefully on the wobbly old stool. He was waiting for the machine in front of him to finish its latest report on the air from the mine. It had been a few hours since Spock had snapped out of the toxic fog his brain had suffered, and dawn was just a couple of hours away. The oxygen from Wrent's portable unit had been enough to clear the Vulcan's head and help him convince Wrent to get him them the hell out of there. After calling his four men back to the mine, they had bundled Spock and McCoy up in a tarp at the back of one of those mine vehicles and had driven them to a nearby geology lab that the Troglytes used in their mining operations. Wrent and his men were keeping watch outside, and they had made sure to keep the lights down and the windows dark.

They were still not near the illegal transporter, and there was still no way to signal the ship. But both Spock and McCoy knew that finding out what had poisoned them in the mine was going to be a deal changer. Not only for them, but for the whole planet.

_If only I had my equipment on the Enterprise,_ McCoy thought tiredly.  _This would probably take a couple of minutes instead of a couple of hours. But if I could have that, I'd be home already and this knee fixed. Even with the better air, I don't feel like I can concentrate well._

He felt beat all to hell, and practically had been. Wrent had been able to scrap up some more water and some food for them both, so he had a bit more energy than he did before.

_At least Spock's thinking clearly now. His stutter is completely gone, which is a good sign. And I don't want to throttle him myself, which is good. I'm too tired to take a shot at it anyway._

They had worked together to tweak the Troglyte's gas detector into looking for gasses it was never programed for. Trying to look for something you weren't even sure existed was always hard. Where do you start? But they had both agreed to start with the zenite. It was only found on Ardana, so no one else would have run into any problems mining it. Especially when Spock had told McCoy that the zenite that Ardana routinely shipped out was known to be 'refined' before shipment. They both agreed something in that process could negate any problems a gas would cause in its natural state. That gave them a place to start.

But they were still working on guesses and intuition. Three passes through the tweaked gas detector with sealed samples of unrefined zenite had come up with nothing. Another few minutes and they'd find out if this time they'd hit pay dirt. And it didn't solve the problem of how to get home. The Disrupters were still looking for their escaped hostages, and guarding the transport pad, and Spock had not found any equipment that he could use to communicate with the ship. The Stratos Dwellers had not wanted the majority of Ardana's population contacting anyone but them.

So  McCoy closed his eyes, tried to relax and not fall off the stool.

He almost jumped when Spock's voice came from right beside him.

"Leonard, are you all right?"

"Sure," McCoy said. "I'm getting by. Just tired. I feel like I could sleep for a week once I get this knee fixed."

Spock nodded, his eyes glancing at McCoy's throat. By now, McCoy was sure the bruises were looking pretty stark against his skin. He should remember to put the scarf that came with the mining uniform back around his neck before they went anywhere.

"I apologize for the attack, Leonard," Spock said quietly. "I can not say I didn't meant to hurt you, because I clearly did. I deeply regret my actions."

McCoy sighed, and tried to wave it away. "Don't worry about it, Spock. It wasn't your fault. I should have realized sooner something was wrong with both of us, and not goaded you into it. Truth is, I was spoiling for a fight with you myself. In my head, I was being pretty nasty. I just hadn't gotten around to saying it all. I'm not at all proud of that."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "And yet you did not attack me. Of the two of us, I was the more violent."

McCoy chuckled. "Only because I was hurting, tied up, and pretty much out of energy by then. Otherwise, I would probably have been dumb enough to try to kick your ass. Besides, I know you could have done a lot more damage if you'd really wanted to. I know a lot about Vulcan physiology, remember? If you had wanted me dead, you'd have snapped my neck in a second."

Spock looked grave. "The thought of doing so did cross my mind."

"But you didn't act on it, so you had more control than you're giving yourself credit for." McCoy gave him a smile and a tired shrug. "Spock,  _don't_  worry about it. We're friends. Stuff we do to each other when we're drugged, drunk or high on some weird space spoor doesn't count. Friend's forgive when they need to, and ignore the rest. Your apology is accepted, but not needed."

Just as he finished, the gas detector beeped, and showed the current reading. In the middle of the screen, was a large spike at one of the component on the list that McCoy recognized.

"There it is," McCoy said with relief. "The raw zenite is putting out a gas that's awful close to the neuro toxin trillium-D. That stuff is toxic to Vulcans, and to a lesser extent, other humanoids. It's not close enough to trillium-D do permanent damage to either, but it is close enough to interfere with brain activity. We get this information to the ship, and I can run simulations and see exactly what it does to the humanoid nervous system. If a large part of the population spends any time down there digging, or up here processing, the raw stuff, it's no wonder they're having mental and emotional problems. Once a section of their population removed themselves from the effects of the gas, the difference would have become pretty noticeable over time."

"Then we must endeavor to get it to the ship, as quickly as possible."

"Any ideas?"

Wrent hobbled quietly through the door. He had put his oxygen cannula back on as soon as he had gotten it back from Spock, and had felt well enough to stay outside and help watch for trouble. "There is still a massive hunt for you both, that only grows larger. I don't know if we will be able to hide here for much longer. We need to move again."

"Do you know what's happening on Stratos?" Spock asked.

"Yeah. Our Captain will be looking for us," McCoy added.

Wrent shook his head. "I don't dare make any contacts beyond those already with me. We can trust no one else with your lives. I have the mining car ready, we can take you further out of the city--"

"No, wait," McCoy interrupted, holding up a hand. "If we get too far out, we'll be beyond the range our Captain will think to look. He can't search the whole planet."

"I agree," Spock said. "If we will not be spotted aboard the vehicle, then we can stay moving until we can ascertain what is going on."

Wrent looked uncertain. "It will be a great risk until the sun comes up and the population goes about their daily business. Then we can blend in. Right now, there are very few reasons for people to be on the move this time of the morning. We could draw unwanted attention."

McCoy glanced at Spock, and it was clear that they were both willing to risk exposure for more information.

"We're willing to risk it," McCoy said. "At least we're still in mining uniforms. With the hats on and the scarves over our faces we won't stand out too much."

Wrent looked at the gas detector the two had been working with. "Do we need to take that as well? It would be missed if someone should come by here for its use."

"The Doctor and I have the information we need to duplicate the test results once we are aboard the Enterprise. We can leave it here."

"Good, then let's go. The sooner we move, the better."

Wrent hobbled back outside.

Spock started to switch off the lights and setting everything back the way they found it. McCoy turned off the gas machine and reset it to its original settings. They'd had to break the lock on the door to get in, but the rest of the working lab would be left as it was. No use leaving any more clues to where they'd been if they didn't have to.

But when McCoy pushed himself off the stool and his right leg took his weight, the sudden pain made him jerk back. Suddenly he was falling to the floor. Spock grabbed him and pulled him back up. "You should have let me numb it again, Leonard."

McCoy clung to Spock as he helped McCoy get his balance on his good leg again. "You said that the second time wouldn't last nearly as long as the first. That the effects only really work well once and then tapers off. Let's save the second time for when we need to actually start running again."

"We may not be allowed the time to complete the procedure. Also, no amount of numbing will actually allow you to 'run' in your condition."

McCoy put his arm around Spock's shoulders as Spock prepared to help him move to the truck. "Then you take off without me."

"I will not leave you."

McCoy sighed as he started his slow hop toward the door. "You know, you're damned frustrating to work with."

"If you mean that I'm not inclined to let you get your way in this matter, I would agree."

"Don't agree with me. It just makes me even more frustrated."

"I would agree with that statement as well."

"You...? Oh, hell!" McCoy found himself too flustered and in too much pain to go another round. He'd lost that one and he knew it. "Damn it, Spock! Just get me to the truck."

They got settled in the back and covered up as much as they could while still being able to see. Wrent and two of the men rode up front, and two rode in the back with Spock and McCoy. After a quick discussion, Spock and Wrent had decided to drive near the illegal transporter and see if anyone from Stratos had discovered it yet.

_I'm still not certain whether they're here to protect us, or to keep us with them. How do we know they're not the ones demanding things from Jim and the High Council for our release? It's going to be damned embarrassing if we find out we've been co-operating with our own kidnappers in keeping us moving and untraceable. That'll really piss Jim off._

But he didn't really know what they could have done differently.

They drove through the town for a while, in the pre-dawn. McCoy tried to keep the rough ride of the vehicle from getting to him, but found himself biting back groans. If the ride got any rougher, he was going to end up vomiting from the pain. Spock looked at him, raising an eyebrow, but McCoy shook his head. He'd save that second mind meld for when he needed to move for Spock's sake.

It took a while for them to find themselves a few streets away from where Wrent had built the transporter. It was hidden in a large shed inside a locked yard where many of the big mining machines were kept. It wasn't until they drove closer that McCoy almost laughed in delight. Standing outside, clearly on guard duty and with phasers in their hands, two men in the red shirts of Starfleet Security stood outside the locked gate. But Spock leaned through the open back window and said something to Wrent, and they pulled several blocks down a side street instead of passing by the Enterprise crewmen and stopping.

"What are you doing, Spock?" McCoy whispered. "Those are our men over there! They'll have comms!"

"They are men wearing Uniforms, Doctor. I was too far away to recognize them."

"You think they're fakes?"

"It is a possibility. Our uniforms are of public record, and the Stratos Dwellers are artists of note. The Troglytes may as well be able to produce such copies."

"Okay. So, what do we do?"

"I shall walk to the corner, conceal myself in the shadows, and see if I can get close enough to make sure they are our men before I make contact."

"I'm going with you."

"You would be safer here."

McCoy glanced at the two men with them in the back, and leaned closer to Spock so they couldn't hear.

"Not if they decide to drive away  _with_  me, I wouldn't. I'm going with  _you_."

"Doctor--"

"This isn't the time for a pissing contest, Spock," McCoy hissed. "Don't make me hop after you!"

"If you  _insist_ , Doctor."

Spock helped him out of the truck, the other two men watching them warily. McCoy gritted his teeth and walked as normally as he possibly could in the darkness nearest the buildings. He knew his death grip on Spock's arm must have pained the Vulcan a bit. McCoy had to admit they weren't moving very fast, but he wasn't willing to be separated now.

They had just about reached the corner of the wide street. Still in the shadows, McCoy let Spock help him lean against a wall. Then Spock carefully made his way to the corner and looked across the street. After a moment, he hurried back.

"I believe they are Lieutenants Jacobson and Galecki. But from this distance and with this lighting, I am not one hundred percent certain."

"How certain are you?"

"Eighty-eight point seven two three."

"Close enough. Let's go."

McCoy leaned heavily on Spock. Spock was practically dragging him across the street and toward the two guards. Not being in uniforms themselves, McCoy didn't expect for them to be immediately recognized. As the two crewmen men stiffened at their approach, McCoy had a thought and reached up and pulled off Spock's hat and scarf disguise when they were close enough for the two security men to recognize their first officer.

_I guess being almost two meters tall, with pointed ears, is an advantage at times. Not that I'd tell him so._

The two men exchanged quick words and one grabbed his comm to report their arrival and the other ran up to them with his own comm."

"Commander! Doctor! We're to beam you straight to the ship."

"Do so, Lieutenant," Spock ordered.

"Three to beam up, immediately!"

McCoy felt thankful for Spock's support as he felt the familiar transporter beam do its usual dance with his insides. It would have been embarrassing to have arrived face down on the pad.

 

***

 

Jim stood at the back of the Sentinel Command center, watching as Sentinel Commander Landor took information and gave orders to his men on the surface. Vanna, not willing to give names or locations, was on her own comm in another room, giving her own men orders. Jim had ordered Uhura to keep an eye on where all the calls Vanna placed were going. Jim was sure that Vanna knew this as well, and even now her people were covering their own tracks as they searched for McCoy and Spock.

_They're both happy to give the illusion of working together, to appease Starfleet and the UFP. Both want their support when this is over and they have to deal with each other. If they want the support bad enough, then maybe a Mediator will have a chance of uniting this society. But it certainly won't be easy for either side. Especially if the Troglytes claims are true about how the Stratos Dwellers have treated them in the past. It may take another generation before some of that can be forgiven._

Remwar, in shock and feeling lost and isolated after Vanna's assassination attempt, had agreed to talk to Jim on the record. Jim had had Sulu with him as a witness, and his statements had been recorded. Most of it backed up what Vanna had been trying to tell them, but Jim felt that there was a lot more to it than even Remwar was admitting to. Jim had sent a copy of everything to Starfleet, who was sending it to the UFP Council. Jim was sure that soon a diplomat and a mediator would be on their way, and Ardana's UFP membership suspended until this all got sorted out. It could be a long, long time before the rest of the Federation Member planets saw any more zenite or sale of Ardana's arts on the open market.

And right now, Jim found he didn't especially care. He was tired, anxious and frustrated.

_Where are they? Are they okay? How is Bones doing? Maybe still being on the run is a good thing. I just wish we knew if they have escaped or are now someone else's hostages. Or even alive. If they screwed up and killed their hostages, they'd be frantic to cover it up once they'd been discovered. And that's what worries me the most, that we're hours too late._

Vanna, busy trying to save her own situation, was still not willing to talk to them about the abduction. But she'd reported to Remwar before his arrest, and he'd looked relieved to be able to disclaim his responsibility for the whole situation by blaming Vanna first. And when Remwar had explained how they'd lured McCoy into the lower levels, Spock a surprise addition, and got them off the city, Jim had felt anguished that McCoy had had to suffer that kind of fear.

_He's been doing so well dealing with his fear of heights, and his aviophobia. He'd been having a lot fewer nightmares. I even think he was beginning to enjoy the view from the viewports on the ship. He used to give them a wide berth. To be transported from freefall... I can't even imagine what his reaction had been. At least he's with Spock. I know it would have been so much worse for him alone, even if he'd never wish for anyone to see him that way. He's got his pride, and hates to ask for help._

_He's got to be okay. He's got to be alive. Then we can deal with what we need to deal with._

His comm beeped.

"Kirk here."

"Captain!" the relief in Uhura's voice told me most of what he'd been waiting to hear. "Doctor McCoy and Spock have just made contact with the Security guards outside of the planet-side transporter. They're alone, and are now being transported to the ship."

"I'm on my way!" He flipped his comm shut. "Sulu!"

Sulu, across the room and talking to the head of the Sentinels, stopped and trotted over to him.

"The hostages are beaming to the ship," Jim told him. "Organize the shutdown of the search parties, and keep an eye on the Sentinels and what the High Council does with Vanna, Remwar and any of the other Disrupters. Co-operate with them in giving them information we have on the remaining fingerprints, and don't interfere with any arrests unless the Sentinels get violent. I will tolerate no torture, any denial of food, water or 'fresher facilities, or any other mistreatment of the prisoners, according to Federation Membership rules. Make sure they know you're watching, so they'll behave. I'll get things settled on the ship and will get back to you as soon as I can."

Sulu's smile was huge. "Understood, Sir. Great to know they're finally home."

"Yes, it really is," and Jim smiled himself as he flipped open his comm again. "Enterprise, beam me up."

 

***

 

McCoy didn't really want to wake up. But someone was calling to him, and he couldn't sleep if they didn't shut up. Once he was awake enough to recognize Jim's voice, and feel Jim holding his hand, he worked at it a lot harder.

"Jim?" He tried to open his eyes. He was at least able to squeeze Jim's hand.

"There you are," Jim said happily. "C'mon. You need to wake up. M'Benga said he'd give me a few moments with you while you're groggy, but he wants to talk to you about your surgery when your head's clear."

"Sur--? Oh, my knee." McCoy took a breath and rubbed at his face. He hadn't even realized his knee pain was gone. In fact, the whole leg felt numb-ish, which it would be right after the repair work. He finally got his eyes opened and was able to focus on Jim's face. Sitting in a chair next to the biobed, in a private room, Jim looked concerned but happy. McCoy could go with that. "Spock okay?"

Jim frowned a bit. "Was he hurt?"

"Hmm... don't think so. Nothing major. I just needed to be sure."

"He's fine. Just a lot of scrapes, bruises, and some dehydration. I gave Uhura a break so she could make sure he ate and drank something while he's finishing up on some research you two started. She's worked her ass off and needed the time off. And the alone time."

"Like someone else I know?" McCoy asked, seeing that the hours had been wearing Jim down as well. He rubbed his thumb over the back of Jim's hand.

"Not my fault I try to sneak in a nap and the kids get lost." Jim's smile turned serious. "We've still getting pieces of the story, bit by bit. Spock's been able to fill in your side of it. I know they dropped you off Stratos to get you beyond the security shield. I've done that kind of fall myself and it scared the shit out of me. How're you doing?"

McCoy sighed. "Embarrassed, mostly. I pretty much freaked out when they were getting ready to do it. I swear, If I hadn't gone to the 'fresher not too long before that, I'd have pissed my pants all the way down and not even known it. Spock was really great about it though. He's got a lot of patience with people. Did he tell you that when they threw me off, he jumped after me to save me? He says he was just too slow, but I from what I can piece together, from my panic, he made that one last leap to catch me. He didn't even  _know_  that we'd be beamed to safety before we could hit the ground. He may have suspected, but there was no way he could  _know_  . While we were hanging there, I tried to make him let go, so he could save himself, but he wouldn't do it. Looking back, that's what I remember most about the whole scene. His trying his best to save me. I owe him one."

"He's a good crewmate, and a good man," Jim said quietly, giving McCoy's hand another squeeze. "We're all lucky to have him on the ship."

"He's a good  _friend_ ," McCoy said. He hadn't even realized he was going to say it out loud. "We're friends now. Officially, I guess. We had time to kill, so talked for a bit. I think we've both been hoping that we were actually getting along pretty well, even if we're not exactly the poster boys for good relationships. It's weird. But it works for us, even if we drive everyone else crazy with it."

Jim smiled. "You do make us all wonder sometimes. You can bounce off each other pretty hard when you both get your dander up."

McCoy laughed. "Do Vulcan's have dander?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm sure." Jim chuckled, then grew serious. "Speaking of you two, and this friendship thing, what happened with the...." Jim indicated McCoy's neck.

_Oh, he means the bruises Spock gave me. I should have known Spock would bring it up first._

"He told you about the gas the Zenite gives off? Well, it got to both of us. I was too worn out and in pain to really be much more than angry and mouthy. I snapped at him once too often and he snapped. He's a Vulcan. He could have done a lot worse than just try to shut me up."

"Spock's doing some more research on it now. Maybe if he can see the results of the gas, he won't feel so guilty about losing control like that."

" _I_  should have known  _sooner_  that something wasn't right with him. He was  _stuttering_ , Jim! And the closer we got to the actual mine, the more he stuttered. I've never heard him do that. It must affect his Vulcan wiring more than the humanoid ones. It could be that the Ardanans have some natural, evolutionary defense against the gas, and it's takes longer to affect them. It would explain why the societies differed so much once a section of the population was removed from its influence. It just doesn't make any sense otherwise."

"So, you're not going to insist he be put on report? Press any charges against him?"

"What? Did he--? Hell no! Why would I?"

Jim grinned. "Just checking. He actually reported the attack to me and reminded me you had the right." Jim shrugged. "I told him I'd ask you about it."

Jim's comm beeped. He took it, and McCoy could hear Sulu talking, but not what he said. Jim told Sulu he'd be right up and closed the connection. "Got to go."

"I know. Thanks for being here when I woke up."

Jim stood, leaned over the bed and kissed him, putting a hand on his face and rubbing a thumb on McCoy's cheek. "You're making me grey, Old Man. You should see my beard as it grows in. Next time I take a nap, you're coming with me so I'll know you're staying out of trouble."

"I could get used to that, Kid," McCoy said with a smile. "Now go. M'Benga's got to fill me in on some things. I want to get up on this leg as soon as possible. Spock could screw up the research."

Jim chuckled, then turned to leave.

_Press charges? Stupid Vulcans..._

***

Four Days Later

***

 

McCoy was lounging on their couch in the dim evening lighting of their cabin. He was in his soft sleep shirt, pants and robe, trying to read a book on his PADD. It was getting late, and Jim still hadn't been able to get out of his meetings like he'd wanted.

Jim had had four long days of political hell after their rescue and McCoy had seen little of him.

The first day McCoy had spent on the biobed in MedBay, sleepy, bored and cranky. He'd had a few visits from Spock, Uhura, Sulu and even Chekov came in to say 'Hi'. Which surprised McCoy a little. He'd actually thought Chekov as a little scared of him. He had then spent that night in MedBay after Jim made some quick visits.

The second day, McCoy'd gotten the brace on and ordered by M'Benga to go home. He'd still been bored and cranky but caught up on a lot of paperwork and looked over the new inventory schedules of both their medical supplies and vaccines. Jim had slipped in sometime during the middle of the night, and had McCoy had just seen him for a few minutes as he was getting up and ready for more long-distance, all-day meetings.

The third day McCoy'd gone back to the MedBay and been a pain in the ass as he forced himself to catch up on the endless paperwork and looked over Spock's findings on the Zenite gas. After adding some information of his own, he'd signed off on it and sent it in to Starfleet Medical and the UFP team coming together to investigate the whole situation. Contact address supplied by Jim. Spock had run all the tests that could be run, and it was now up to the more equipped labs to add anything new to their findings. They now had incontrovertible proof that the gas was affecting the majority of the ground population, which would absolutely affect their IQ and personality ratings. The removal of gas exposure should prove that the Troglytes were actually  _not_  an inferior branch of the same species as the Stratos Dwellers.

McCoy created a quick and dirty design of a filtering mask for the miners, and suggestions for more intensive filtering of the gas from the planet side dwellings of the Troglytes that would take care of that problem. He'd sent that report to Spock, who, a few hours later, had added his own redrawn version of the two designs and returned it for McCoy's approval. He'd signed off on it, sending it to Starfleet Medical and the UFP investigation team. When it came to designing equipment, McCoy would chose Spock's version over his any day.

McCoy had then given up waiting for Jim to come home, and had barely nodded off before Jim had gotten back to their cabin. They'd both passed out after a quick kiss and cuddle.

Today, McCoy'd been able to take the brace off and resume his full-time duties, as long as he was careful with his knee.

Now, he just wanted Jim to come home. But he had no idea how long all the UFP and Starfleet meetings would go on.

_Damn, but I hate all that political stuff. I'm glad I only have to keep people alive and healthy. It's easier, and you can see some progress if you do it right. With politics, it just never-fucking-ends._

The door finally swished open and Jim came in, looking tired. "You up? I thought you'd be asleep by now."

"Couldn't wait to hear all the exciting news." McCoy tossed his PADD on nearby table. "You all done, or just gearing up for the next round?"

Jim walked to their mini-bar and sighed as he pulled out the bourbon and poured himself a finger's worth. "Want some?"

"I'll pass."

"You're not still on pain killers, are you?"

"Nope. I've just had all evening to wind down."

He came over to sit with McCoy, who sat up against the side of the couch to make room. Jim sat at the other end, and signaled McCoy to put his feet on his lap, which he did. McCoy enjoyed Jim's warm hand on his bare ankle.

"We have been cleared for our next assignment, which we should receive first thing in the morning. The currier ship with the UFP mediator, Robert Fox, arrived this afternoon. He's to work with both the Stratos Dwellers and the Troglytes to mediate an agreement to redistribute the planets resources and open up Stratos to the whole population."

"How are they going to do that?"

Jim shrugged. "I know the UFP would like to see Stratos used more as a business complex and everyone actually live on the planet. That way only those who actually warrant the use of the space get to enjoy it, and everyone has to mingle on the surface on their private time. But that's just one of the things the UFP would like to see. It may never happen. Maybe they'll build more cities. Who knows?"

"What about how the Stratos Dwellers have been treating the Troglytes all these years?"

"There will be sanctions against Ardana, I'm pretty sure, until they prove that that's all changed. It's early days yet, but most of the Council Members seem to be eager to meet with the mediator and get any sanctions lifted quickly. There could be Federation charges against some of the High Council and the medical teams, if they've been found to have terminated the elderly to make room and messed with the fertility rate and pregnancies in the Stratos population without their people's knowledge. There's been some really ugly arguments over whether that has really been happening or not. A lot of the High Councilors may be removed pretty soon, especially since all the information found by the mediator and the research team will be make public knowledge. The Stratos Dwellers are in for a harsh wake-up. The Disrupters may not be the only ones who want to see heads roll in the end."

"Will the Disrupters be getting out of charges then?"

"Oh no. They'll have to stand charges for your and Spock's abductions. That'll be in the future, but it'll happen. The Troglytes will have to start from scratch and vote in their own representatives for the mediation process."

"Did you ever find out what the original plan was? What all was going on behind the scenes."

"Yeah." Jim squeezed McCoy's ankle. "As you know, Second Advisor Remwar was working with Vanna, who was the leader of the Disrupters. Their goal was to get Plasus out of his spot, and then Remwar could slip into the High Advisor seat. He was a Troglyte sympathizer, so they thought he'd work to get them Council seats. Guess he was tired of waiting for Plasus to get old and die, because Plasus will keep that job until he's pried away from it. Vanna and Remwar planned to do that by pulling us into the mix. Kidnap you, demand Plasus leave the Council. If he did, then Remwar would be in charge, and he would help Vanna change things. If he didn't, which they didn't really think he would, they'd torture you a bit, get me good and riled up, and I'd bring in the Federation to bear on Plasus. Or push me into removing him myself. Then they'd keep upping the ante and even kill you if it would make the Federation move things right along."

"Why me? I'm not that important."

"Don't be stupid," Jim scolded. "You're the Ship's  _CMO_ , a very  _valuable_ Federation Officer. They needed to be able to get an officer alone, and they figured the CMO was the easiest target. That's why Remwar asked for the Enterprises' CMO to beam down to the tour and Welcome dinner. Offer you a personal tour of the Health Center, and there you go, all by your lonesome with Vanna as a guide. They had several days to get it done. Just happened to work the first time they tried it."

"Okay. I guess it did. But they didn't plan on Spock tagging along."

"No, but they decided to take advantage of the situation, once you both were down on the planet. Vanna was winging it at that point, and there's no telling what she would have done with Spock once they had you down on Ardana and him still on Stratos. She's not talking, and Remwar doesn't know.

"But how did they know you wouldn't just blast them once you got pissed enough?"

"They knew the Federation well enough to know that wasn't likely to happen. They assumed we'd put pressure on Plasus and the High Council to handle the situation, but wouldn't allow him to do any mass torture or anything. And our anger would be focused on Plasus for not producing results. If we helped them with our technology, they were ready to scatter, which they did. They just didn't see us identifying them so quickly or so easily. Just goes to show you," Jim took another drink from his glass, "that reading the Terran classics is valuable all in itself. They had never used fingerprinting, so never thought of it. Otherwise, they'd never have handled your equipment or have given it back to us. They thought wiping the DNA would do it. They knew enough to disable the comms and not take the equipment down to the surface, though. They just never figured on old Terran forensic methods of detection."

"Will you be in any trouble for the way you handled it?" McCoy asked.

"Nope. Starfleet is happy with the result. You two are alive and I didn't shoot the shit out of anyone to get you back. I didn't actually threaten Plasus with torture, just the bad guy, so I'm in the clear and everyone has moved on from there."

"Have they found that old guy, Wrent, who tried to save Spock and me?"

Jim shook his head. "No. He's still in hiding, last I heard. We did find out that he's actually Vanna's father. She may be pissed at him for messing up her plans and going against her on the 'don't hurt the hostage' deal, but I don't see her turning him in."

"Nice old guy. Just wants the best for all his people. Hope he makes it through all this okay."

"Well, I hope those new gas filters you and Spock worked up help get the whole population back on an even keel. Especially the miners. Being angry and frustrated most of the time is an awful way to live." Jim said with feeling. "Starfleet was impressed with your discovery, Bones. You and Spock might get a commendation out of it. Not many can say they influenced a whole society with one discovery."

McCoy huffed. "Yeah, I'll hold my breath for that one."

Jim bent over and placed his empty glass on the table. Then sat back and pulled up McCoy's right pant leg and inspected McCoy's knee. "Brace off already?" Jim placed his hand on the knee, rubbing at the skin. "Looks good. Can't tell M'Benga was ever in there. How's it healing up?"

"It's fine. Just need to be careful not to twist if for a few more days, then it'll be back to normal. But I do..." McCoy said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Have a sore spot needing some attention."

"Oh, and where would that be?" Jim asked with interest.

"Higher," McCoy said, and laid back with a sigh as Jim moved his hand higher up McCoy's thigh, inside his pajama leg. It always felt good to have Jim's hands on him.

"Here?" Jim said with growing amusement as he massaged McCoy's thigh.

"Higher."

Jim moved his hand higher, almost up to McCoy's hip, and rubbed. "Here?"

"Higher, damn it."

Jim laughed. "Well, darn. Can't reach any higher while you're wearing these pants." He stood, sliding out from under McCoy's legs, then reached to McCoy's waist and grabbed the top of the sleep pants. He pulled them down. McCoy had not put anything on underneath. His cock was quickly firming. "Let's get you out of that shirt and robe."

McCoy leaned forward, and Jim pulled them both off of him.

"You next," McCoy ordered watching Jim with interest. He could feel his own face starting to redden and his cock fill.

Jim stood, and slowly drew his command shirt over his head, and tossed it behind him. He knew McCoy loved to see Jim in his tight, black undershirt. Jim rubbed his hands over his chest, and watched McCoy's reaction. He then removed the undershirt, slowly. McCoy could feel his grin grow even wider as the pale but firm flesh that covered Jim's well-formed pecs and abs came into view. Jim's flush was spreading, splotchy and chaotic over his torso. It painted Jim's desire clearly, all over him, even if McCoy could ignore the growing bulge in the front of Jim's pants

As if he could ever ignore  _that_.

"Should I put on some stripping music?" Jim asked with a laugh and a smile, enjoying the attention.

"Take too long. You're  _fine_  as you are."

Jim turned his back to McCoy and kicked of his shoes and socks. Then with his thumbs in his pant waistband, carefully pulled his pants to a point just below his ass.

McCoy must have groaned.

"No touching yourself," Jim ordered, not even looking at him.

McCoy fisted his hands in the sofa cushions to stop himself from doing just that. "Bossy bastard!" He growled.

"I mean it," Jim said forcefully. "Or I won't do  _this_."

Slowly, then a bit faster, Jim clenched one buttock, then relaxed it as he clinched the other, and he continued the motion. The shimmying made his pants fall further down his legs, a bit at a time. Jim glanced over his shoulder look at him, and McCoy knew his face must be beet red. His cock certainly was.

"Damn it, kid. You are so fucking  _gorgeous_ ," McCoy said breathlessly, his voice thick. "You push  _all_  my button, in just the right ways."

"Do I?" Jim asked innocently, as he bent and pushed his pants down the final few inches. McCoy just hummed deeply at the exposed ass, the peek at the heavy hang of Jim's balls just on the other side of his body.

Jim stepped out of his pants and turned around. He was also at full salute, his cock hugging his stomach. He spread his legs apart so McCoy could see him clearly, hand on his hips. McCoy knew Jim loved to watch him get excited over his body. Jim had a bit of an exhibitionist kink that, thank god, showing off to McCoy seemed to keep satisfied. McCoy wasn't much on the thought of sharing this view with others. He was a selfish bastard that way, and proud of it.

"Like what you see, Old Man?"

"You  _know_  I do, you tease!"

Jim rubbed at his chest, his nipples and trailed his hand to the base of his cock and back up. He watched as McCoy's eyes tracked him hungrily.

"This will all get old, one day. Old and wrinkly. Will you still want me then?"

McCoy huffed with amusement. "No matter how old you get, I'll  _still_  be older than you, Kid. I won't ever give a shit."

"Promise?"

"Don't have to. I couldn't control my reaction to you to save my own life. And you  _know_  that, you manipulative bastard."

Jim grinned with delight. "Yeah, I am, aren't I?"

"And I love that about you," McCoy said thickly, wanting more than anything to have Jim in his arms. "Every last, ever-lovin', torturous minute of you.  _All_ of you. For- _damned_ -ever."

Jim walked slowly toward McCoy, letting him look all he wanted. He grew serious. "I'm holding you to that."

McCoy felt his grin grew even more lecherous as he lifted his hips showing off his thick, fully engorged cock. He voice was deep with his desire. "How about holding  _that_  right  _here_."

Jim smiled again and straddled him slowly, giving them both time to adjust to the narrowness of the couch cushion, and to make sure McCoy's knee didn't get twisted or jolted. Jim settled, and brought their cocks and balls together with one hand. Both men were leaking now, nothing else required. Bracing himself with the other hand on the back of the couch, Jim started stroking them both and moving his hips so that the sensitive undersides rubbed each other as well. McCoy let go of the couch and took Jim's head in both hands, and pulled him down for a kiss. It was hard and deep, and Jim fought to hold on to the couch as they both moved against each other.

Every movement they made, every touch, and sound filled McCoy's mind and mouth until there was nothing left but Jim in his mind. He loved everything about the man, and still couldn't believe that Jim loved him back. The need to climax built up in his gut, even though he could have lived in that moment forever. They continued, Jim licking and sucking at his mouth as he worked them against each other. Jim started to make the deep, guttural murmurs from his chest that meant he was close. McCoy reached down and joined his hand to Jim's a second before Jim climaxed. Jim groaned, and McCoy felt the pulse of Jim's cock in their hands and the drip of cum down his fingers. He let Jim's cock go, and pulled frantically at his own, his finger's covered with Jim's pleasure. It took just a moment before McCoy came, his mind hitting that pure moment of ecstasy before dropping back into the world and the bone deep, pleasure of his own hard and complete release.

Jim fell forward, their foreheads touched. Watching Jim, McCoy saw his eyes close and a look of complete peace soften Jim's face.

_Every time. It's like this. I always wonder how I could love him any more than I do. It shouldn't be possible. And then I just... do._

McCoy groped blindly for his sleep shirt, found it, and wiped them both clean. McCoy was then able to finally put his arms around Jim and pull him close. Jim carefully stretched out on top of him, then went completely limp, his head in the crook of McCoy's neck.

"Love you." McCoy kissed his temple. "We should get to bed. I want to hold you when we sleep."

"Sounds great to me," Jim mumbled sleepily into McCoy's shoulder. "Love you too, Bones."

But neither of them moved.

And after a few minutes Jim started to doze, spread out over McCoy. Then his breathing deepened, and McCoy could feel the healthy, muscular, trusting weight of Jim Kirk push him deeper into the couch. He was heavy, and warm, and perfect.

McCoy continued to hold him close and let him be.

There were plenty of tomorrows left for the bed.

 

 

 


End file.
